SweetBreads
by Grymmarie
Summary: Clarice is under house arrest and ordered psychiatric care after the events at Chesapeake Bay. Upon receiving an unexpected gift, she finds herself under attack from an Unknown Assailant and on the run with Hannibal Lecter.
1. Author Note

_**Author's Note:**_

All the characters belong to the wonderous Thomas Harris!

Follows After Hannibal Movie Ending.

_Required Reading: Hannibal Rising_

I have revised my story. I pulled out Grimm and Mapp, so that I can focus on Lecter, Clarice, and the enemy who hunts them.

Since I pulled out chunks of a few chapters I combined them with other chapters to lengthen them. I did not re-write anything, but you are free to re-read.

I'm sure, for some, reviewing Chapter Ten (considered Chapter 11 on FF) will register as already reviewed. If you wish, you may PM me. :)

-Grymmarie

*UPDATE*

June 5th, 2012

M rated fics with MA content will be cleared out. So I went back through to Chapt Nine and 'toned down' the mature content in hopes that won't remove my fic. I suggest if you have an MA content filled fic of any type, should do the same or at the very least save a hard copy! A new chapter will be posted soon.

On another note: Check out my profile for a Poll to help shape Clarice and Hannibal's future in SweetBreads! :)


	2. Chapter One

It's a clear and pleasantly warm night in the little corner of the cul-de-sak of Clarice Starling's world. Special Agent Clarice Starling was curled up on her couch in the dark setting of her living room. The closest noise was that of the washer on spin cycle. The sound was distant to Clarice like the sound of the helicopter that night at Chesapeake Bay. It's only been two months since then, but it was still fresh in her mind. Two months since the last words she spoke were "I'm Clarice Starling, F.B.I!" To identify herself to the law enforcement she had called for. But something inside her wondered if she was trying to clarify to herself who she was at that moment when, just before, a madman with a meat cleaver made her question herself. 10+ years of FBI training down the drain because of a simple statement, a compliment, and a self-sacrificing action. That swing of the meat cleav- She stopped her thoughts by focusing on the events afterwards in Jack Crawford's Office.

"Starling?" Jack sat across from her with his furrowed brow. "We need to know exactly what happened. Internal Affairs is going through this with a fine comb. You could be charged with aiding and abetting a criminal." His voice laced with a plea. Clarice noticed how the Agent-in-Charge of the Behavioral Science Unit was looking a little ragged around the edges and worn out. He was past his mandatory retirement date, yet he still sat here, doing his job. Before Clarice came into the picture Jack Crawford's protégé was Will Graham. Graham was horribly disfigured and traumatized by the 'Tooth Fairy' killer, who was sent to kill Graham and his family by the Infamous Dr. Hannibal 'The Cannibal' Lecter. Now, as if he was laughing at Jack Crawford, Dr. Lecter had tainted his second choice protégé Clarice Starling.

"I hate to see you this way, Starling. But until you start opening up, you are ordered to see the Psychologist 4 days a week and remain in constant contact with your case worker. Since we are not sure where Dr. Lecter is or what he is planning, or-" He paused, the look of hurt in his face, "Or your connection with his escape, you're under house arrest with a tracking bracelet and guards on watch 24/7."

Clarice glanced down at the tracking bracelet's red blinking light shining through the blanket that was draped over her; it gave away the position of her ankle. It was warm out and she still felt the need for a blanket, was it for safety? Maybe if she acted like a child and hid her head under the blanket it would make the monster in her closet go away. Clarice knew she wasn't going to fool the Big Bad Wolf while wearing this Red Riding Hood. Every demon in her mind could find her with this blinking red light betraying her location.

Flashing red, she stared intently at the L.E.D until the headlights of a car, circling the cul-de-sak, swiftly lit her living room before darkening again. Clarice stared into the dark, twin red peeks danced in the shadows. Maroon eyes staring back at her from the darkest corner of her mind. Those penetrating eyes, the sparks like a flint being struck. She saw the sparks, the fireworks that went off on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay that night she chased after him to the water's shore. Were the fireworks for her? A Congratulation from him to her for her independent day? Was it a sign of his independence? Clarice shook her mind free and snuggled her face into the arm of the couch before silently passing out.

There was a loud rap-tap-tapping at her front door that suddenly awoke her from her deep slumber. She sat up and felt like all her muscles wanted to contract all at once, every inch of her was sore from sleeping on the couch. Clarice hasn't slept one night in her own in the past two months. The couch is where she felt the safest. The loud knocking continued until she reached the door and fiddled with the locks. She cracked the door open to see a uniformed officer on the other side, she didn't bother saying anything; she already knew what was going to be said.

"Sorry ta botha' ya Miss Starling, just checkin' in on ya. Here's your mail, ma'am." The young officer slid her mail through the door. She nodded, her only response, as she accepted the mail before closing the door. Clarice tossed the mail into a bigger pile of mail that sat on a half-moon table next to the door before returning to the couch. Her stomach rumbled, complaining about the lack of food. A glance at the time suggested she had two hours before her session with Dr. Savage the F.B.I's own psychiatrist.

"_You'd think a girl could catch a break," _Her thoughts started, "_after dealing with a psychotic psychiatrist drilling questions of 'How does that make you feel?' – 'What was your childhood like?' – 'Do the Lambs still scream, Clarice?'_" Clarice shuddered at the last question; her voice wasn't the one used to ask it. She heard his slight metallic voice ring in from the depths of her mind. _"Don't even talk to me."_ She answered back.

She decided to take action even with all the fatigue she felt. A hot bowl of clam chowder appeased her grumbling stomach and a hot shower helped her tense muscles relax. As Clarice tide her shoes the annoying little beeping of her wristwatch informed her that time was up and she would now pay a visit to Dr. Savage's office. In the past month and ½ worth of sessions all she did was lie on the couch without saying a single word. In the last session Dr. Savage had concluded that agent starling had selective mutism caused by a traumatic stress and that in this upcoming session he would prescribe her medication. The last thing Clarice wanted was to be put on medication; she decided that she would have to speak in this session. She stepped outside into the bright sun as she slipped on her dark sunglasses. She caught sight of the two uniformed officers parked at the curb in front of her home just as they spotted her leaving the house. Clarice locked up the house before she approached the official cop car, which was also her ride to and from Dr. Savage's office. She slipped into the hard back seat of the car as one of the officers greeted her with no response in returned. His faced looked confused when there was no reply from her. Clarice hadn't seen him before; she knew this was his first day.

_"Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me" _Dr. Lecter's voice chose to prod her mind again. She lowly groaned to herself, sulking into the seat as she watched the familiar scenery pass by.


	3. Chapter Two

"Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me" Dr. Lecter's voice chose to prod her mind again. She lowly groaned to herself, sulking into the seat as she watched the familiar scenery pass by. If Dr. Lecter heared or knew she thought that then, it would only boost his ego. Were all psychiatrists egotistical? She's really only a handful of them and so far the numbers for yes out weighted the no. Maybe she was assuming to much of Dr. Savage.

They pulled up next to a park while waiting for a red light. There was a family enjoying a picnic; a mom, a dad, and two boys. The mom and her oldest son tossed a Frisbee back and forth, while the dad and their younger son were locked in a battle of who could make the ugliest face. A small smile crept across Starlings face as the light turned green and the car rolled forward with traffic. 'Family,' she thought, 'I never had time or really thought hard about it. I worked so hard to get wher... where I am today.' She looked about the backseat and forcefully exhaled through her nose. 'So much for all my hard work. Ugh, don't think like that. I didn't do anything wrong, I did what I thought was best and in the end it will show.' She sat up a little straighter. Her train of thought broke when she realized they had stopped in front of the building that held various businesses; the third floor was where Dr. Savage's clinic resided.

Clarice took a deep breathe, 'Do every act of your life as if it were your last.' She quoted Marcus Aurelius. As told to read Meditation, she had and enjoyed. One of the officers opened her door, she stepped out not bothering to glance up at the looming building but instead headed straight for the stairs leading to the large rotating doors. She failed to notice a Black 1998 GT Sedan with dark tinted windows parked across the street, she also didn't spot the lens of a camera protruding ever so slightly out the window; pointed at her. Several shots were taken as she strode up the stairs and through the doors.

The elevator ride was void of speech but not of sound as the speakers played campy elevator music. Ding, the doors slid open to a long hall of entryways to dentists, physicians, psychiatrists, and other medical offices. Clarice stepped out the headed for the door she's been heading towards for the past month and a half, always closely followed by any given officer on duty to watch her. Her watch dog checked her in and she was immediately sent into the Dr. Savage's office.

Dr. Savage, mediocre, plain, amount to not much; Clarice thought of him. He was seated in a basic brown leather stationary chair that most psychiatrists had. He was pudgy around the waist, face and neck. She could see how he use to be thin but years of his job and little outdoor activity showed. His brown thinning hair was too short to comb back or style, just brown bristles on his head. He glanced up from his pad and smiled. She wondered how his thin lips could ever push those corpulent cheeks up as they nearly consumed his small eyes, which were framed by too large of thick-rimmed glasses. She forced and smile and nodded, noting that he didn't bother to rise when she took a seat in a replica of his chair.

"Good Morning, Agent Starling. You're looking well today." He pulled his glasses off to clean them with his large cardigan sweater. Clarice was grateful for the new start of this conversation. It beat the 'How do you feel today?' starters. He said it anyway which made her eyelids close halfway in almost a lazy glare that said she didn't 'feel' like answering that question. He coughed and continued, "Are you up for talking today?"

"Yes, Dr. Savage." She nearly startled herself, 'Oh my god, was that me?' Clarice couldn't believe the rasp in her voice. A metallic rasp from disuse. She hid her dismay from Dr. Savage, but even if it showed ever so slightly, he would never had noticed. 'He's not that good,' Clarice thought. She felt certain thoughts and memories tugging at her mind just then, she blocked them out because now was not the time.

"Very well." His smile was so wide that his cheeks almost devoured his eye balls. "Begin when you're ready." He sat patiently with pen and pad in hand.

"Begin where?" She unintentionally cocked her head.

"From the beginning, Agent Starling." His smile faded a little.

"And where would you consider the beginning, Dr. Savage? Would it be the night my parents conceived me? The day I was born? The night I lost my virginity? The night I lost my Father? My home, my family?" Her voice was on edge and she wasn't sure if it came out sounding condescending, did she even care? "How about the day I was sent deep down into a dungeon to come face to face with a beast." Not really questioning more like a statement.

"A Beast?" Dr. Savage's smile was miles away, he couldn't fake it if he tried. He re-adjusted himself in his seat, "Most people consider him a monster."

"No, monsters only exist in our minds."

"So, you don't see Hannibal Lecter as a monster?"

Clarice inhaled sharply and narrowed her eyes at the pudgy man, "Please don't take me for a hayseed because of my West Virgina accent, but I don't like when words are put into my mouth."

"I'm sorry, I didn't intend too. Let me rephrase. 'Go ahead and begin where you feel comfortable.'"

She thought for a moment. If Clarice started too early then she would need to explain the process and self-evident light brought upon herself by Dr. Lecter. The Lambs and her career with the F.B.I, it would take to long to explain. The F.B.I already had the information on file the day He played cat and mouse with her at Union Station, just before Mason's goons grabbed him. Except she hadn't told the F.B.I that Dr. Lecter had been in her house hours before that. She tried not to linger on that thought. Clarice didn't know for sure his reasons but she had some excellent guesses. Her thoughts traveled to the pair of Gucci shoes, now sitting in evidence. 'What a waste.' Still quite unsure of where to begin she thought about Dr. Savage's part in all of this. He was here mainly to confirm or deny that Clarice Starling was under Stockholm Syndrome. That's as likely as Hannibal Lecter having Lima Syndrome towards her.

"I guess I will start when I arrived at Muskrat Farm." She watched him nod and jot down notes as she continued. "I felt that Mr. Verger knew the search of his premises was eminent and had stashed Dr. Lecter away until the ordeal was over. I was right... the very same van I saw at Union Station had pulled up to the Verger Estate house, then later headed off the the barn. I didn't spot Dr. Lecter but I had a gut feeling. When I arrived at the barn I heard a tape recording of screams which made the pigs go crazy. When I found Dr. Lecter, he had been tied to a fork lift with an i.v drip-"

"How did that make you feel, seeing him like that?"

"I'm an agent of the law, I don't like to see anyone about to be tortured. Don't make this out to be Aesop's Fables of The Lion and the Mouse, either."

"Please continue."

"I took down two men before they attacked me. One was alive for sure but I didn't have time to check the second one. I handcuffed them and turned my focus on Dr. Lecter. I started to cut a few of his bonds... then I decided I'd feel comfortable if I wasn't so close to him and let him cut the rest of his bonds." She distorted the facts a little.

"With what?"

"A knife."

"You gave Hannibal Lecter a weapon?"

"I had my gun on him the whole time, if he even thought of making a move it would be over for him."

"So better for you to end his life then what ever you -think- Mason Verger was going to do to him?"

"No, that's not it at all." She didn't care to elaborate anymore on that and instead continued a story she would have to re-tell again at her Case Hearing. "Just as he was working on his last bond he mentioned a third man up in the attic of the barn, then I saw him as he was about to shoot. I fired a few rounds but I think one of my bullets must have ricocheted off a large fan blade and it struck me in the shoulder then I hit the ground..."

"Is that all you remember?"

"No." Her eyes caught a bird flying past the window, she stared out at the blue sky.

"Agent Starling."

"I saw him lean over me, then I heard someone yelling, then I couldn't hear at all... I just watched Dr. Lecter talk through the mask." She continued her stare without blinking as she recalled watching his lips moving then the tip of Hannibal's tongue snaked out to touched the middle of his upper lip. Clarice subconsciously licked her lips. "I don't remember much after that, I was in a car or van. I saw trees pass by but that was all. It's hard to say if I woke up a few times while he operated him my shoulder" Not true, she remembered how is eyes held her whole each time she awoke. Was there worry in his eyes?

"How do you feel to-" Dr. Savage began but was cut off by Clarice when she snapped back to reality to finish his question in her own way.

"To be rescued by a cannibalistic madman from flesh hungry hogs? I'd rather take my chances with Hannibal Lecter."

"Hmm" He scribbled some more. "Then after all that?"

"I woke up dressed for dinner."

"How do you mean?"

"I was wearing an elegant dress."

"He ... dressed you?"

"I assume he did."

"How did that make you feel?"

"It wasn't the pressing issue at the time."

"How does it make you feel now?"

Clarice needed to say 'Vulnerable', 'Disgusted', 'Wanting to puke and scream.' But she wasn't any of those. Even though he was a madman, a murder, a cannibal, he was always a gentleman. Before she was able to mull over her answer it shot from her mouth, "Flattered." She tried to hold back the burning feeling in her cheeks and hoped that Dr. Savage didn't notice her blush... maybe if she acted like it was getting warm in the room. 'No no NO that'll make it worse!'

Dr. Savage's thin brown bristle eyebrows shot upward. "Flattered? Why?"

A desperate sigh escaped her lips, 'If you live through this I'm gonna kill you.' She threatened herself. "It was hard to admit to myself at first but the act it's self was very thoughtful. No one has every treated me so nicely. I'm not saying that this one act of kindness redeems him, but he took me into consideration when he bought the dress. Yes... it's also very creepy to think about, but unlike my co-workers and basically everyone on this planet, I might not -fully- understand his motivations, but I have a good grasp."

"Are you willing to explain?"

"Yes. Dr. Lecter likes high class, formal dinners, wine, operas. I've studied his tastes."

"Do you consider yourself one of his tastes?"

"No, just a doll he dressed up for a show."

"What show?"

"Dr. Lecter saw Paul Krindler as my enemy. And he set up an elaborate dinner with Mr. Krendler as the main course."

"Did you see him that way?"

"As the main course?" She inquired.

"No, do you view Mr. Krendler as your enemy."

"No." She looked back out the window again, 'Not anymore' she thought. "But Dr. Lecter once spoke of the natural state 'to taste one's enemy.'"

"So why would he want to rid you of a so-called enemy?"

"I'm not him Dr. Savage." She looked him square in the eyes when he lifted his head from his notes. "I don't presume to know what he thinks, why he thinks it, what he does, or why he does it."

"Do you have an opinion on why?"

"Yes."

There was a long pause.

"Do you care to elaborate?"

"No." She said with lack of emotion in her face or voice.

A light knock came from the door that startled the pudgy doctor. The secretary poked her head in. "Sorry to interrupt but Miss Starling, Director Noonan is here to see you." Clarice stood not bothering to excuse herself from Dr. Savage's presence and followed the secretary into the waiting room. Clarice knew all too well what was about to happen. An 'informal hearing' with lots of questions, questions they already had answers to in her written report. After that would be criminal charges, most likely, then jail. Maybe she could plead insanity. Locked away like Lecter... the irony wouldn't be lost on her.


	4. Chapter Three

It's wasn't long after Noonan had picked her up from Dr. Savage's office and drove her to the familiar grey ugly building of the F.B.I headquarters; she was growing to hate it. Clarice found herself seated at the same table, in the same spot, when they had their 'little' discussion about the Drumgo case before all this started. So many disappointed faces, men leaning over to whisper to one another, some wrote on pads of papers, others fiddle with their watches. 'This must be cutting in to their golf time.' Clarice thought to herself.

Having to go over every little detail about the horrid event was now numbing and felt more like she was telling the men any well known children's story. She knew that covering every aspect of the ordeal would be quintessential but the prospect of telling them that HE had kissed her was difficult. 'Nothing came of it, right? It's not all that important that they -need- to know. Maybe it's better they don't know.' she decided that it was best to keep it to herself. Still, she knew, that if somehow they found out later it would return to bite her. This cycle she was stuck in needed to change. 'I can't keep going on like this.' Clarice worked hard to keep her posture and face as neutral as possible but she just wanted to hang her head and get a good cry out.

Clarice was unaware of how the painting Allegoria della vita umana embodied her. The pink carnation she holds represents an undying love along with the a dandelion that has gone to seed serves as the wishes not yet made. Her eyes are mesmerized by the Ouroboros above and has failed to notice her hour glass is empty. When will she look down to comprehend her dilemma that in one hand there is nothing but death and deprivation but in the other there is love, aspiration, and her future.

There was an unsettling thickness that hung in the air of the board room. She had just finished telling them about how Dr. Lecter trapped her hair in the door of the fridge, his words, her handcuffing him to herself, and how he cut off his own hand. All 11 men had read her transcript but hearing it come from her made them feel uneasy. Clarice recognized a sort of symbolism in the events that past between herself and Dr. Lecter, but she was sure all they saw was a sick freak who had a sick crush on her and a willingness to escape while making a show of it.

"Alright, I think we are finished here." Noonan said packing up his papers into a briefcase. The other men hustled their belongings and rushed to leave without a glance at Clarice. "Starling," Noonan turned to her, "I'm gonna call for your ride to meet you at the door." He, too, stood and left her in the semi-dark room. Alone. That's what she was. She lost everything, Brigham dead, Ardelia had moved away and married, Crawford would be retiring soon. 'What am I going to do?'

"What are you going to do?" Dr. Lecter hissed in her mind.

"Don't."

"Will you work as a chambermaid?" She recalled him asking. Clarice imagined herself as one. With a boring and gruelling job of an everyday normal person. It would be easier, maybe move out close to Ardelia and settle down with someone. Have date nights, girl's night out, bar hopping, karaoke, kids, birthday parties, holiday dinners, real Christmas mornings. 'What if... I lose this? What if they get rid me and I don't go to jail? Would it be so bad to a civilian. Maybe get a job in a police station, would they even except me?"

"Possibly as a night watchmen like your daddy." His voice stabbed her in the gut. She grabbed her stomach as if really having been stabbed then it growled under her hand. 'Oh right... all I had was clam chowder this morning.' A glance at the time told her it'd been over 10 hours since she left the house. 'How time flies when you're having fun...'

Clarice made her way down to the front doors of the F.B.I headquarters and found her ride waiting for who knows how long. She requested to stop by the store were she picked up some more groceries to fill her cub-boards. She had the officers carry them in before they searched her house for any monsters hiding under the bed and in the closet. 'Two birds, one stone.' They finished their search and said goodnight. Clarice turned on the TV for background noise as she put away the food. Nothing of interest, a robbing, a murder, a kitten rescued, and an old building about to be condemned. It had been weeks since they mentioned her or Dr. Lecter.

Several more weeks had passed and the date for her official hearing with the courts was right around the corner. Ardelia showed up to town and insisted to appear in court with her, she was going to account for Clarice's loyalty with the Bureau. Jack Crawford also offered to show up. 'Just when you thought you had nothing, eh?' She felt her situation lighten. Ardelia requested to stay with Clarice but had been denied by higher up bosses and had to room at a near by hotel, that didn't stop her from coming over every morning.

The day before her court date had arrived and Clarice had a very difficult time finding sleep. It wasn't long before she woke up to Ardelia's knocking on the door for her morning visit. She still woke up to early for her own good and the couch wasn't getting any kinder on Clarice's body. "Girl! You need to sleep in your bed." she scolded her friend noticing her physical discomfort and the mess of blankets on the couch.

"Good morning to you too." Clarice wiped the sleep from her eyes.

"I have a surprise for ya!" Ardelia grinned, all too happy. "It took me forever to convince them but the officers are willing to drive us to Virginia State Park, I now how badly you love to run and being stuck here is a fate worst then death!"

Clarice's lips twitched as she started to smile trying to hold back a choke of a sob and tears in her eyes. She hugged Ardelia so tightly and received a tight hug in return. "Thank you, thank you so much. I love you."

"I love you too, girl. That's why I am here. I just wish I woulda been here from the beginning. I'm sorr-"

"That doesn't matter, you're here now." The two smiled at each other before Clarice bounded off to her room and dress for their jog.

Winter had settled in nicely without snow, frost, or rain in the recent days so the ground was frozen still allowing them to jog safely. The cold air nipped at Clarice's nose and ears but running along the 5 mile trail kept her warm enough to endure it. Everything melted away, all her problems and worries disappeared for that brief span of time as she focused on her breathing, her beating heart, her feet pounding the ground. When a thought threaten to intrude she ran faster. Ardelia had a difficult time keeping up with her friend but also kept her distance so she could reflect without distraction.

'Fly' Clarice pushed herself harder up a steep incline, 'Fly, fly little Starling.' She was a few good yards from Ardelia when she slowed down at the peek of the trail head looking out over a small body of water. "School is out of session." she spoke under her heavy breathing. This run had helped her to clear the clutter and reorganize her thoughts, priorities, and acceptance for any upcoming events. She took a good deep breath in and released it along with all the tension in her body. Ardelia finally caught up.

"Phew, man! I have fallin' off the wagon." Ardelia clutched her chest attempting to catch her own breath.

"Hahaha, why did you stop jogging?"

"WHOO," she leaned against a tree before slumping down to the cold ground where Clarice joined her. "I guess I got a little lazy after I got married." The two of them giggled. Clarice mentioned about her plans if she lost her job at the F.B.I which made Ardelia get overly excited at the idea.

"Ohm'i'gosh! I mean, I don't want you to lose your job, girl, but as far as a back up plan goes it sounds good! I would love it! I'll be there for you for, anything you need to get on your feet!"

"Thanks Ardie!" The two girls shared a hug and took in more of the beautiful sight set before them. Soon after they jogged back to the police car parked at the entrance of the State Park. The ride back was filled with Ardelia and Clarice's laughter and chatter, even the officers couldn't help but smile at the two acting like teenage girls laughing so hard that they end up snorting causing another wave laughter. Soon the laughter would cease. They pulled up the driveway of Clarice's side of the duplex, an officer opened a door to let the girls out of the car and proceed to the front door where a yellow plastic bag hung from the door knob, that usually meant a new phone book had been published. Clarice was the only who noticed no one else in the neighborhood received a copy and the officers weren't worried about the bag as they had already pulled out and parked along the curb.

Ardelia had snatched the bag before Clarice unlocked and open the door, she let Ardelia step through first while scanning the surrounding area as she closed and locked the door. Something in her gut turned, this was the same feeling she got as she woke up to find candles lit and an open magazine on her coffee table. Clarice was too late to stop or distract Ardelia from pulling out a Bon Appétit magazine from the yellow bag. Her eyes glanced over the cover, her smile faded. Wide eyed from shock and her F.B.I training in forensics kicked in as she dropped the magazine like a deadly snake.

On the cover under the title was a delicious colorful looking meal of red-cabbage-and-apple slaw and dots of raisin purée topped with a lightly fried meat. Big bold beautiful font, placed just right to show off the food, said 'Delicate Sweetbreads' in smaller font below 'Written by Hannibal Lecter M.D and Clarice Starling.'


	5. Chapter Four

"Ohmygod! Clarice!" Ardelia's hands clasped to her mouth with a gasp. Clarice was frozen, staring down at the magazine. Thoughts bashed her mind like waves on rocky cliffs. Her fists clenched hard until her knuckles turned white, 'That Son of a BITCH! He thinks this is joke? HAHA so fucking funny, Doctor! How the hell could he DO THIS TO ME? When I find his sorry ass-" She noticed a piece of paper protruding out of the pages of the magazine. 'Another love letter, huh?' Venom in her own thoughts.

"We need to call Crawford, we need to call someone. Who should I call first?" Ardelia reached for the house phone.

"Wait!" Clarice verbally stopped her before running towards the bathroom.

"Clarice, are you ok? If you're gonna be sick just let it out." Ardelia said after moments of silence waiting for a sign that she was needed by her side to hold her hair as they both had done for each other several times after long nights at a bar.

"No, I'm ok." Clarice bolted out in to the hallway with a pair of tweezers in one hand. She knelt down next to the magazine where Ardelia joined her. She carefully began to extracted the corner of the paper, slowly pulled then stopped. Clarice decided to open the magazine to the page that held the note. The first page of the article was a sharp clear image of the dinner scene at Chesapeake Bay. Lecter was standing over Clarice with a hand on her cheek and a smile on his face, thankfully Paul Krendler had been cropped from the image. She vaguely remembered a knife in her hand moments earlier; he was too fast, she was too drugged up. Clarice stared at the image... his face, that smile. There was a buzzing in her ear from his words 'A medal, courage and incorruptibility, a mirror.'

"-RICE" Ardelia laid a firm hand on her shoulder to shake her. "Girl, where'd ya go?"

"Sorry, 'delia." She squeezed her eyes shut before putting her focus back on the task at hand. They both looked back down at the photo.

"Was that taken at Chesapeake Bay?" Clarice nodded in answer, "Did he have hidden a camera?"

"I don't know, I don't think so... It doesn't seem like something he'd do." Clarice used the tweezers to grab a corner of the makeshift bookmark. She lifted and shook the note open. First thing she noticed that it wasn't handwritten, something fluttered in the pit of her stomach... relief? 'Focus, Clarice.' She read the typed note:

Miss Starling,

Please except your own personal copy of Bon Appétit featuring your co-written article. Copies have also been sent to the following as requested:

Hannibal Lecter M.D

FBI Head Director Farris

FBI Asst. Director Noonan

FBI Agent Pearsall

FBI Agent Crawford

FBI Agent Michaels

Defense Department Head Eldridge

Justice Department Head Tisha

Federal Judge Arleen Wert

Federal Judge James Berksins

Mayor Benny Holcombe

We thank you fo-

Clarice dropped the note and tweezers before she could finish reading. 'No... no.' She sat back against the front door. Her eyes never leaving the note and magazine. There were several long minutes of silence. "I'm fucked 'Delia! This is gonna be the straw that breaks the camel's back." Ardelia knew better then to ask if she had or hadn't helped write the article. She new Clarice was gonna be questioned about it later and asking now would only hurt her best friend. She knew in her heart that someone was setting Clarice up to fall.

"Maybe this is a prank... to scare you. Maybe they never received a copy. Maybe he wants to see you run for nothing."

"This wasn't -HIM-, 'Delia. He would've handwritten a note..."

"What are we going to do now? I'm sure it'll take them a long while to confirm or deny what they migh' be thinkin', right? Long hours of investigating ahead. That'll give us plen-"

"I'm gonna go shower and get ready. I know -They- will be here in no time to pick me up. Head back to the hotel and I'll call you, if they let me."

"Clarice, I'm not leaving you."

"I know they won't let you go with me. Not after this. That there-" Pointing uselessly to the culprit, "Is my one way ticket to jail. I'll probably get fifteen years, just for the fact of who he is."

"Clar-" Ardelia's eyes filled with sadness as she crawled up next to her friend.

"Please! I don't want you to be caught up in this. You have a husband to think about and I don't want to be responsible if this whole thing blows up." Clarice slipped an arm around Ardelia's shoulder and rested her chin on top of her head. She could feel Ardelia silently crying. "If we survived Mr. Bachermen's hellish English class, we can survive anything."

"HA." Ardelia coughed out, "I'm surprised he didn't keep a hose behind his desk to use on us every time we passed out." They both laughed a little more at the memory. "Clarice..."

"Yeah?"

"You looked damn good in that dress."

Clarice took her time in the shower enjoying the hot water and her sweet almond mint shampoo. She tried hard not to think about what was going to happen. 'It's a little cliche to cry in the shower, girl.' Though she couldn't if she tried, wanting to break down and doing it were different. Now would be the perfect time, when will she have this kind of privacy again? What would you do if you knew that in a few hours all of your rights and freedoms were stripped from you? Most people don't get that luxury.

Clarice decided to prepare a sandwhich along with a hot cup of coffee. Determined to enjoy her last homemade meal, she settled on the back porch in the crisp cool air and appreciated all of it. 'It's funny how we take the little things for granted.'

Several hours past and still no word from Noonan or Crawford. She even stepped outside to give the officers on duty each a cup of coffee, they were very thankful. She stood around chatting with them while listening for anything over the radio, still nothing. It didn't take them long to finish their drinks so Clarice returned to her house and phoned Ardelia's cell, but there was no answer from her. "Hey girl, gimme a call when you get this message. I'm still at home." She hung up and started to flip through the pages of the magazine. Why bother with finger prints and evidence now, huh? Clarice's cell phone hummed a cute tune, she didn't recognized the number at all but answered. 'Must be Ardelia's hotel phone... or Noonan.'

"Starling."

"Giirl! Are you still home?"

"Yeah, No word yet. I'm still a free woman."

"Thank god! I've been worried sick, rack'n my brain, damn near thinkin' 'bout kidnapping you."

"Aaww, how sweet. It's funny you called, I just got off the phone with your cell."

"Yeeaah sorry I didn't answer it, I lost it somewhere."

"On the trail this morning?"

"No, I didn't have it then."

"Hmm... I didn't hear it ringing here." Clarice glanced around on the various table tops for the cell phone. "Did it fall out in a cab ride?"

"I'm hoping not, I'm sure it's here. Got that gut feeling its right under my nose."

"Heh. You and your gut. Did you eat yet?"

"Yeah, gotta love room service! Best of all Bernie said that he'd pay for the whole bill. Hehehe, I wish you could come over and raid the mini bar with me."

"Now that'd be heaven!"

"Speak of the devil, I think he's callin'. Ring at ya later?

"Sure thing, Tell him I said Hi."

"Love ya."

"Love ya too, Ardelia!"

Twilight was descending over the city, dinner came and yet but not long after she finished cleaning the dishes there was a knock at her door. She was ready; taking a final look around her abode. It might not have been much of a place but it was hers, something she worked hard for and that's what made her proud. 'I'm prepared for whatever they throw at me.' She opened the door to greet an officer of the watch.

"Miss, I was informed to take you dow-"

"I know." She politely nodded, "Thank you." locking the door as she stepped out. Clarice was loaded in to the police car before they set off to where ever they were going to scold her before tossing her into a cell. The phone in her pocket vibrated. She recognized the number as Ardelia's cell phone. 'I'm glad she found her phone.'

"Hello sweetie. Still thinking about kidnapping me?" Clarice said with a smile in her voice, 'If I keep calm she won't feel the need to worry.' The officer in the driver's seat gave her a quizzical look in the rear-view mirror, she played it off as a joke before he returned his eyes to the road. At first there was no answer on the other side. Was there breathing? Maybe she in the middle of eating and couldn't multi-task. Then a sound and a voice.

"Mmmmm." A low metallic growl, "Brace yourself, my love." The line went dead leaving Clarice's smile instantly faded with trembling hands clutching the cell phone and the feeling her stomach had decided to eat her own heart. 'Oh god... why now? What does he want? Wait... what did he mean 'Brac-' She saw him, for a second which felt like hours, on the corner of the street as her ride was entering an intersection. His maroon eyes bright in the dark shadows just out of reach of the streetlight. Did he just wink at her?

The sound of glass shattering and the crunching of metal drowned out the screams and tires screeching along the pavement as a car on the other side T-boned the police vehicle. Clarice would've been tossed around like a rag doll if she hadn't buckled in, but she didn't survive without injury either. The other car, lower to the ground, had wedged itself under the police car helping momentum and gravity put Clarice's ride into a full on roll. She lost track of where her arms were as she attempted to shield her face from the flying debris and unable to see or prevent her head from hitting the roof, door, metal mesh between driver and passenger or even the hard plastic headrest.

Two good rolls of the car seemed to go on forever for Hannibal Lecter as he watched from the shadows. He kept a close eye on Clarice the entire time. The car bounced on two tires before coming to a full stop upright. Luckily for Hannibal that the area was mostly deserted, a few pedestrians took cover. He quickly made his way to Clarice's door, reaching to feel her pulse. Strong but she was out cold. He tried the door handle; it was locked. Reaching in through the broken window of the drivers door he felt around pushing buttons until a satisfying click unlocked all the doors. His black gloves made sure to leave no finger print behind. At that point one of the frightened pedestrians rushed over to help.

"I'm a Doctor," He yelled out, "Call an ambulance! She's not going to make, I'll take her myself!" Lecter's stern voice forced the young man to turn back in search of a phone before he could get a better look at his features. Hannibal peeled the door open and unbuckled Clarice, gently picking her up. The smell of her blood once again permeated his nose and invaded his memory palace. 'Such sweetness should never be spilled.' He carefully but swiftly carried her to his black Ferrari Enzo parked at the corner. Once he had her settled in the passenger seat he ran his fingers down the back of her neck to the base of her spine, 'Good, nothing broken there.' They then traced her outer ribcage down under her breast towards her sternum. 'One... two... fractures.' His hand slipped under her shirt to ease pressure on her abdomen, 'No internal bleeding.' He quickly traced her arms and legs. 'Nothing major.' He let a finger briefly travel across her lips then proceeded to climb into the drivers seat. The beautiful sound of his ride was far from the scene before the emergency vehicles had arrived.

A normal drive from Washington D.C. to Ottawa, Ontario, Canada would take over 10 hours. Lecter got there in just over five, breaking hundreds of speed limits and running red lights. It also helped that there wasn't a lot of traffic during the middle of the night. Along the way he did pull over and gave Clarice a mild sedative to help her sleep and a good dose of morphine to reduce the pain. He cleaned her face and brushed her hair while checking for head trauma. He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and whispered, "A woman is like a tea bag, you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water and I think you've been in the hot water long enough." A draped blanket over her hid the blood stained clothing while Hannibal joked with the border patrol that his wife could sleep through a car crash as he passed his and her passports to them.

It didn't take much longer to reach a small district called Alcove, NW of Ottawa, then right off of Route 105 on to Chemin des Erables to a modest cabin off a beaten path. The weather had produced plenty of snow and rumor of a storm threatened to dump several more feet in the coming days. Hannibal wasn't looking forward to it, hoping that his situation would've let him evacuate the area but unforeseen forces and news of Clarice in trouble left him stuck with very few options. He pulled up as closely to the front porch as he could, leaving Starling in the warm and still running car while he made the finishing preparations and build a fire.

Hannibal Lecter never wasted a step, never had to double back or make more then one trip. What he did and when he did it was with deliberation and execution of perfect time management. Especially now when time was crucial and Clarice's well being hung in the very balance of his trained hands. He would not allow himself to linger at any given moment until he knew a hundred percent she was safe from the edge. Since he has yet to furnish this abode with a claw tub and the shower was standing only his option was reduced to clean her wounds by sponge. Once cleaned, bandaged, and dressed in comfortable two piece cashmere pajama set he tucked her safely in the king sized bed. The only bed in this studio styled cabin swaddled deep in a forest far from civilization. Hannibal Lecter sat in a leather bound chair, his elbows rested on the raised sides, fingers intertwined and steeped under his nose. Dark pinwheel maroon eyes focused fully on her consistent and stable breathing while the fire light licked at his face.

'Clarice.'


	6. Chapter Five

_"Hey baby," a voice gently cooed as Clarice woke up, tucked in bed all the way up to her chin. She recognized the walls around them as her childhood bedroom. Her father was dressed for work and sitting on the edge. She could feel the weight of his hat resting on her legs "How are you feelin'?"_

_"Daddy, I hurt." She sounded small, even to herself._

_"I know pumpk'n," He reached down to stroke her cheek, she could smell motor oil on his hands from working on the truck. "You gotta be strong for me ok?"_

_"I'll try." She sighed_

_"Is somethin' botherin' you, baby?" She missed his face so much, the look of worry wasn't something she wanted to remember._

_"I don't think the kids at school like me." Remember the first day of school was frightening._

_"Why wouldya say that?"_

_"I think I scare them or they are threatened by me. Maybe they should be."_

_"Wha'bout Ardelia, she likes ya." He brushed her hair from her face._

_"She has a husband now, someone to take care of her."_

_"Wha'bout you?"_

_"I don't have anyone."_

_"I'm sure there's someone ou' there."_

_"Maybe. But its all wrong daddy. Nothings going right."_

_"Nothing ever does, you and I both know that. The important thing to remember is that you stay strong and if you can't do that then stay true to yourself and follow your heart." He placed his big strong over her heart. "They told yer mama and me that we'd never have kids, but we had you. Things will turn around, be patient. Now get yer rest. Big days ahead." She felt weight from the bed lift but her daddy hadn't moved._

_"Stop!" She reached out for his hand "Don't go." The weight returned as her father leaned over and kissed her on the forehead._

_"I'm not going anywhere." He whispered as she closed her eyes and slipped back to slumber._

Hannibal watched as Clarice's breathing evened out as she fell back into a deeper state of sleep. Her hand still clutching his wrist. 'Stop. Don't go.' He never uttered a word to her while she mumbled and talked to her dead father. 'Intriguing. Surreal dreaming, hoping daddy will give you advice?' He wasn't sure if the cause was head trauma or a side affect to the dosages of morphine. It was turning out to be a gift, something he'd treasure. He lifted her clutching hand to his mouth, inhaling deeply before brushing his lips over the back for a kiss. She released her grip with another mumble. 'Soon you'll be awake.' His calculations estimated she'd be up 6 hours. He had not slept in over 72 hours, 'A quick nap before she wakes then bacon and eggs for breakfast. A little reminder of home, Clarice?'

Hannibal Lecter laid down on the couch and closed his eyes. Svanire by Ludovico Einaudi began to play in the halls of his Memory Palace as he entered the grand foyer of Ópera Garnier. He passed by many doors, slowing down to review the wood work in some or quickly passing by others that held no interest to him. He found a door that looked very plain compared to the others. He entered a very empty plain room. In the center of the room, on a ordinary table, laid a short sword wrapped in red satin, a cyanide pill, and a note written in his own handwriting:

Clarice is next.

He traversed the corridors of his memory for the remainder of his time; enjoying a few memories of Clarice and some that didn't contain her. He watched a Play then enjoyed some art work in the Louvre. In the middle of examining The Death Of Sardanapalus Hannibal heard a ringing tone far off in the distance. It was his wake up call, the sound dissipated when his eyes flew open; he gazed at the ceiling but his focus was on Clarice's breathing.

There was a soft glow of the morning sun, brightened more by the freshly fallen snow. He quickly stood and walked around the couch towards the kitchen without a glance to his house guest. Hannibal prepared the freshly squeezed orange juice, flaky croissants, eggs, and apple-wood bacon before he heard Clarice moan in pain as she woke.

The room almost seemed too bright for Clarice to open her eyes, she closed her eyes and tried to recall what had happened. 'The magazine... the officers taking to-... Oh god Hannibal Lecter.' Her eyes flashed on the image of him on the corner. 'Don't look.' She forced open her eyes hoping to burn out the image of his maroon eyes.

She stared at the ceiling, a log cabin style with thick round wood beams. 'The crash, why aren't I at a hospital?' She knew why but blocked it out as she tried to sit up. Every part of her body screamed, "ugh." she settled back down, 'one thing at a time, girl.' Her toes wriggled, 'good,' her fingers, wrists, and ankles hurt but didn't feel broken.

Clarice's hands traveled up to her neck and felt a padded brace there; finding the Velcro straps easy to peel back and remove the neck brace. With her head able to move she slowly and painfully looked beyond the foot of the bed to view the layout and possible exits. To her right there was a door ajar to reveal a bathroom, just past the end of the bed was the living room with a couch and two chairs; a fire place in the corner on the right. The front door was on the left side of the living room, the big bay window had a beautiful view of a forest blanketed with snow, 'We're not in Kansas anymore.' Then it looked like the cabin continued around a corner.

That's when it hit her, the smell of food. Her hands shook, not sure if it was fatigue or fear of who she thought would be cooking. Clarice struggled to be quiet as she sat up in bed; throwing the comforter off to reveal she had been re-dressed into very comfortable pajamas. 'Not too surprised, are you?' She took note of the bandages on her arms and the pressure of a bandage wrapped around her head. Clarice swung her feet over the edge and expected to touch cold wood under her bare feet, but found the floor was warm, 'Heated floors... you go all out, don't you Doctor?' She leaned against the bed until the dizzy spell had past.

She heard plates and silverware being handled, looking behind her revealed nothing, 'The table must be around the corner too. Quick, Clarice, you gotta get out of here!' She stood, trying to keep her footing, finally made it to the bathroom door frame.

"Please don't take long, Clarice. Your breakfast will get cold."

Clarice swung around a little to fast for her own good. She clung to the door frame as the room spun. She half expected Dr. Lecter to be there behind her but he was nowhere in sight. "Ok" She croaked out, unaware she was going to answer him in the first place. She slipped into the bathroom, closing and silently locking the door behind her.

The bathroom was large with light already pouring in from the skylight above. There was a stand alone shower made of stone and frosted glass; without a door, a good sized area next to the shower under a square frosted window looked like it was waiting for a tub to be installed. Clarice turned on the lights and looked at herself in the mirror. She confirmed the bandage on her head then inspected the minor cuts on her face and lips, there was a nasty cut above one eyebrow and one along her chin. 'I look like I've been hit by a truck.'

She noticed her pile of clothing sitting next to the sink and felt a tightness around her chest; she opened her button up pjs to reveal her chest had been wrapped. 'He has stripped you naked for the second time.' She almost felt angry for letting this happen. 'He saved your life for the second time.' Clarice sighed and glanced at the toilet in the mirror. 'He won't break the door down, Clarice.' She felt like an idiot for letting her fear get to her but if she didn't hurry he might come inquiring about her.

She finally emerged from the bathroom and made her towards the kitchen. Once she passed the bed she could view the dinning area. Dr. Hannibal Lecter sat at the table with a newspaper open, he hadn't seen her yet. The scene before her looked like a classic 'Husband and Wife retreat.' Clarice glanced at the front door before looking back at the newspaper. 'You're not his wife and this isn't a cozy retreat.' She thought slowly sliding her foot in direction of the front door.

"You wouldn't leave after I slaved over this breakfast, would you, Clarice?" He changed the page but didn't lower the paper. She stock still at his voice.

"Dr. Lecter?" She didn't move, she needed to see him, make sure this wasn't some dream; her father flashed in her mind of the dream she had of him. Clarice shook her head to keep focus on the now. He hadn't replied back, was he testing her? Keeping her eyes on the newspaper, she made her way over to the table. 'Don't jump, don't give him the satisfaction of startling you when he lowers the paper, you know he will.' She thought as she pulled the chair out and took a seat in front of her plate of food. He shook and folded the paper neatly, unblocking the view of his eyes staring right into hers. He set the paper down on the table between himself and her with their eyes still locked.

Hannibal smiled folding his fingers together and leaning in to rest on his elbows, "Good morning, Clarice. How are you feeling?" She didn't respond and Hannibal's smile faded, she realized she must have made a disapproving face to the question that has been asked of her for the past several months by Dr. Savage. "Not well I take it? No of course not, specially after a car crash."

"Did you cause that car crash just so you could kidnap me?"

"Of course not. If I do recall you did ask if I was still thinking about kidnapping you. I must admit it wasn't part of my plan but I did quite enjoy hearing you call me sweetie." Clarice was able to call to mind her words, she blushed and swallowed hard.

"Wait a minute! That's because I thought you were Ard- Ohmygod, what did you do with Ardelia." her eyes widened with worry.

"You're going to ruffle your feathers, my little starling, over nothing. I only borrowed her cell phone in order to call you. I assure you she was safe the last time I saw her." He settled back in his seat and picked up his coffee taking a sip. Clarice's shoulders lowered as she relaxed, unaware of how tense she had been. Her eyes looked over the food, 'It looks really good. Ugh I'm so hungry... but-' She looked up and he was still staring at her.

"Please eat, Clarice. You need your strength."

"For what? What are you planning to do with me?"

"I'm not planning anything, we will plan together what happens."

"-We-? What makes you think I will cooperate with you? I don't know where everyone got the impression that I had Stockholm Syndrome but I'm not follow you anywhere."

"I wasn't under that impression, Clarice. But -We- have somethings to talk about, I have a few things to explain to you before we decide anything." He set his glass down, hands placed in his lap as he read the anger building in her body language.

"No." She said sharply, "I'm done playing these games, dammit! No more-... no more mind fucking me. Let me leave and I won't tell anyone that I even saw you!" Hannibal could tell she wasn't lying. 'Oh my darling, giving up on the chase?' he thought. 'Hmm... She will not listen to reason if she is angry.' Hannibal let his eyes and demeanor visibly soften enough for Clarice.

"It was not my intention to... probe your mind when we arrived. You are free to leave anytime, Clarice. I only brought you here to protect you." He let his eyes drift down away from her. She noticed his body language change and it felt like the whole room shifted.

"Protect me from what? From going to jail? I was go- ..." The thought of why she was going to jail made her pause. "Someone sent me a Bon Appétit magazine with an article claiming you and I wrote together... Any thoughts on that, Doctor?"

"Interesting." He met her eyes once more.

"That's it?"

"I didn't submit it, if that's what you're looking for."

"I wasn't. It's just that article..." She looked away, unsure if she should mention the picture.

"Clarice, what did it contain?"

"A picture. Of us at dinner in Chesapeake Bay." She looked over the food on the plate in front of her.

"May I suggest something, Clarice?" This brought her eyes up to meet with his.

"Yes, Doctor."

"I would like to approach a mutual agreement and suspend our hostilities for the time being. No games. We have much to talk about and I will not have you passing out due to lack of nutrients. Please stay and eat; if this time tomorrow you still feel the need to leave I will drive you back to the nearest town and I will never contact you again." His eyes shifted to the newspaper while he awaited her answer.

She had to think, she had to eat and more sleep would be nice. 'It's snowing out there, snow... wai-'

"Where are we, Doctor?"

"Yes or no, Clarice."

'UGH I wanna strangle you, how's that for an answer? 24 hours... You can do this. Just suffer through this, get home...to whatever home I have left... As soon as I get back they're gonna throw me away. Use this time to think about what you're going to tell them when you get back.' She thought as she reached for the cooling coffee. "Yes, Doctor." She sipped the dark brew and savored the warming feeling it brought her stomach. His eyes returned to her with a smile.

"We are in Canada, my dear."


	7. Chapter Six

'Was it the smile or the statement that made you choke on your coffee like an idiot?' She thought and tried not to look at him as she regained her composure. "Canada... of course. Did you smuggle me in the trunk?"

"No you sat right beside me through Border Control." He began to eat his breakfast. Clarice watched as he took small bites and looked elegant when he ate. She tried to follow his lead instead of scarfing her food down as she usually did.

"But I didn't have my passport with me."

"That is very true." He simply said without continuing further. Clarice sat there feeling a little angered that he wouldn't just explain how they got here. "Clarice, all you need to do is ask a question and you shall receive an answer, I will not deny you that." He lifted a glass of orange juice to sip. She glanced away from his stare 'Ugh, don't forget he can read everyone like a book but he won't deny me an answer, huh?'

"How did you smuggle me across the border without my passport, Doctor?"

"Smuggling is a strong word, Clarice. I don't believe Border Control would use it to describe a Husband and Wife returning home from the states. I found Canadian Passports are easier to come by then the American ones. Are you enjoying your breakfast?" He continued eat.

"W-wife?" She tried to hold back a blush while poking at the eggs. 'Great, so he's planned and prepared for this. What else does he have up his sleeve?'

"How long have you had a passport for me? It doesn't seem like a last minute detail."

"It was not long after I knew what needed to be done. Clarice, I asked you a question."

"Hmm? OH!" She recalled his question. "It's very good thank you." She focused on the food in front of her. 'This is a little weird, isn't it?' She watched him pick up the folded newspaper and read the viewable article as he ate. 'You seem normal enough, but I know too much about you. Still can't help feeling...' Clarice stopped her thought. He set the paper down looking at her with a slight cock of his head.

"Can't help feeling what?" He asked making Clarice's eyes widen.

"W-what?" Her hand couldn't seem to hold her fork anymore and it clanged down on the plate.

"Clarice, I'm sure you may have sustained some slight head trauma and temporally lost your inner monologue." Hannibal interlaced his fingers and watched intently the red blush spread from her cheeks outward.

"Oh my god, what did you hear?" Her face burned so hot and knew there was no hiding it, she just hoped she could save face from here on out.

"Starting from 'This is a little weird,' If it were anyone else sitting here they would think you were mumbling under your breath, but I listen to every word you say." Hannibal smiled, if she knew that he heard her mumbling since she thought 'You're not his wife' She might shut down or be sick with embarrassment and he didn't want that. "It will pass and you will have privacy of your mind soon enough. But would you mind finishing that thought?"

"I'd rather not, Doctor..." She looked away and bit her tongue in an attempt to keep it from spilling her thoughts. Clarice tried to focus on the eating and not thinking. He could tell she was trying very hard but a word or two would slip before she stopped herself. She gave up, she needed a distraction. "Anything good in the news?"

"Just the ever prevalent exposés of prosaic activities of society."

"Wow... just can't say 'No' huh?" Clarice could feel the abrasions on her lips as she smirked.

"I did not consider I would have the need to decrease my vocabulary due to your head injury, but if you insist on a more insipid conversation. Mr. Bernardo is d'clared a dang'rous offender, he ain't got no more chance than a kerosene cat in hell with gasoline drawers on to get parole." Hannibal finished with a southern drawl effectively wiping the smirk from Clarice's lips replacing it with his own.

"Fair enough, Doctor." She exhaled her held breath. Breakfast disappeared in silence until Hannibal stood to clear the empty dishes. Clarice stood too "Would you like me to-"

"Clarice, you may retire to the couch. When I'm finished here we will discuss our situation with more depth." She nodded in agreement.

"Thank you." Clarice carefully walked over to the couch and settled with her back against the arm of the couch, her legs tucked up to her chest held within her arms grasp, and her head rested on the back of the leather sofa as she listened to him cleaning.

Hannibal finished washing up the dishes and set them out to dry. He found Clarice had fallen asleep when he finally joined her in the living room taking his seat in the chair across from her. He patiently waited for her, he always has and will forevermore.

Clarice awoke to the sound of a news paper page turning. She realized she had fallen asleep and noticed Dr. Lecter in a chair across the living room under the big bay window. "Good Morning again, Clarice."

"Uh... sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's quite alright. You've had a lot taken out of you and it would be most worrisome if you did not get proper rest."

"How long was I out?"

"A mere cat nap." His eyes focusing on her over the edge of the newspaper. Clarice sat up straight and noticed a cup of tea and a bottle of aspirin on the coffee table. She eyed the pills as she reached for the mug. "A sealed bottle, I assure you."

"I'm sorry, it's just hard too..."

"Trust me?" He folded the newspaper up, leaning back into the chair with a leg draped over the other knee and hands settled in his lap.

"I want to say 'that's not it' but it is."

He raised a hand, "There are no hard feelings, Clarice. I understand. 'If we are bound to forgive an enemy, we are not bound to trust him.' I can only hope to earn your trust."

Clarice forced her exhaling breath out as a scoffing laugh, "Forgiveness, Trust, and Hope. It's not the conversation I imagined having with you; of all people." She set the mug of tea in her lap, enjoying the warming sensation through her pajamas.

"Is it really that ludicrous?"

"Maybe." She lifted the cup to her lips to take a careful sip, "Look, I just want to know what is going on. Plain and simple. You said something about protecting me but from what?" She asked with a sharp 'cop on the job' tone of voice.

"Not from what, Agent Starling, from who."

"Then from who?"

"I'm still inquiring that."

"So... you're protecting me from an invisible person? Why would they be after me and how would you come by this information?"

"Am I under interrogation, Agent Starling? Because I, too, have questions."

"You said no games, Doctor."

"And there shall not be any, just a simple Q and A." Clarice licked her sore cracked lips. His eyes never left hers, but she thought she felt his focus shift, maybe it was her imagination.

"Alright, Dr. Lecter." She set the cup down and picked up the bottle of aspirin. "Let's quickly get this over with."

"Are you in a rush, Agent Starling?"

"Yes and why do you keep calling me that?" Clarice broke the seal and shook three pills out on to the palm of her hand then straight to her mouth where some warm tea followed, washing the pills down.

"Do you not go by Agent Starling anymore?" His voice lowered down to the familiar rasp.

"No." She shifted to sit comfortably on the couch with her legs under her. "Is there a reason I should know why you continue to call me that, Doctor?"

"Mmm, The tone of your voice is as if you are in an interrogation room with me. I'm simply responding in kind."

Clarice paused then closed her eyes taking in a deep inhalation before a sharp pain and the ace bandage constricted her movement to take in the amount of air she would have like to. She slowly exhaled through her nose. Hannibal watched as she winced in pain but on the exhalation her muscles gradually unlatched the tension they held. "I'm sorry," her voice was softer, "Over the past few months I have been subjected to questions and for once I would like to be the one getting answers." He was silent and still. "How did you find out I would be in so-called trouble?"

Hannibal set his left elbow on the arm rest and his chin positioned between his finger and thumb. His eyes remained on her as she took note of the scarring around his wrist. "I was attacked one month ago."

"Someone must have identified you."

"I think not, Clarice. I rarely left my home. Groceries were paid, delivered, and left at my door. It would not have escaped my attention if someone had recognized or followed me. There were no indications or warning."

"Ok, so what happened exactly?"

"You want to hear every little detail?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow with a smile.

"N... no, just the cliff notes please."

"Hmm... his attempt was pathetic to say the least attacking me will I slept. It would not seem he had been watching me for very long."

"Why's that?"

"I always sleep armed."

'Hm...me too.' Clarice thought Hannibal smiled and replied "I know." She looked away forgetting she had no private thoughts. "Ok so then what happened?"

"We fought until I gained the upper hand on him and that's when I noticed he had a cyanide pill in his mouth. He bit down before I could stop him. Disastrous for him that I had Hydroxycobalamin on hand, very disastrous." A small grin crept along his lips. "I was able to delay the effects of the cyanide pill in order to get the information I needed. He was very eager to tell me that 'They' have been watching us for sometime. The car crash was planned in advanced, I derived the location for your hit and since he did not report back after killing me it looks as if someone else had taken the job to finish."

"What the hell?" Clarice gave him a very confused look, "Are you saying we are being hunted by assassins. Why me?" She hugged herself with a shiver.

"I intend to find out. Are you cold, Clarice?"

"Is that your question?"

He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Yes."

"A little." With that Hannibal stood, walked over to a closet and pulled out a soft blue blanket. He strode up to Clarice on the couch and draped the blanket around her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Clarice." He knelt down in front of her. "May I have your permission to continue your care? It would be very inconvenient, for both of us, if something happened to you that I could have prevented."

"What did you have in mind?"

"A simple evaluation."

Clarice nodded, "S-sure."

"Thank you." He pulled out a small metal briefcase from under the couch and set it open faced on the table. Clarice noticed syringes, needles, viles of liquids, a scalpel, forceps, and a small flashlight.

"Well, aren't you the proverbial boy scout." She said as he grabbed the flashlight.

"I believe in being prepared, Clarice. It has saved both our lives... more then once."

"Touché." She smirked as he turned the light on and fully turned back to her.

"Please look straight ahead." He focused on the reactions of her pupils as he passed the light in front of her eyes. She had to try harder then usual to keep her eyes open, It didn't go unnoticed. "Does the light hurt?" He asked finishing up his eye evaluation.

"Yeah, it almost feels like I'm on the verge of getting a migraine."

"Hmm... minor head trauma, nothing too serious. A couple weeks of rest will see you to 100%."

"Sorry, Doctor, but I don't plan to stick around for couple weeks." He sat still so close to her, a look in his eyes she was unsure of. A look of challenge to change her mind? She waited a moment for a reply but when he didn't reply, "Is there anything else you need to check?" She asked.

"Yes." His hand reached up to her head, running his fingers along her skull through hair that could rival tiger's eye quartz. The tips of his digits ran over a slight bump on the back of her head making her wince. "Hmm, slight inflammation maybe the site of your mild case of cerebral contusion." His fingers pleasantly combed through again for good but unnecessary measure, sending a shudder race through Clarice. Hannibal enjoyed the shiver and the smell of her hair wafting towards him as his hand retreated. He stood up, lending a hand out to Clarice, "I need you to stand with me." Clarice let a moment pass before she flipped the blanket off and began to stand without his assistance. Clarice stood a little to quickly causing her head to spin and legs quiver with weakness. When he saw she was losing her balance Hannibal stepped in close wrapping an arm around her waist while Clarice slipped an arm around his shoulder; out of instinct. "There's no need to hurry, my dear. Would you like to sit back down?"

"No I'm ok." She paused, noticing the the warmth of his body and gentle tightness of his grip matching her own embrace around him. Clarice's heartbeat sped up as she felt his penetrating gaze. She slowly released him, hoping her legs could still hold her up. Hannibal's arm temporally relinquished it's grip til his hand stopped at the base of her spine pulling the length of her body up against his. Clarice's breath hitched, unsure of how to react, her hands reached up to his chest with some pressure to push him away. He made no movement to let her go as his free hand slipped under the side of her shirt. Clarice's eyes widened "What are you doing?" she barely whispered as they leisurely made their way up.

"I'm merely checking the state of your ribs." He replied in a hush tone. A small smile crossed his face as his soft fingers tips continued to explore her ribs, using light palpation to find the exact point of fractures. He felt her body temperature rise with the quickening of her breathe, still she continued to hold tension in her posture. Hannibal's second hand slipped under her shirt, both sliding up to her shoulder blades then gradually down along her spine. Clarice liberated the pressure of her arms as she watched his eyes glimpse at her lips causing an automatic response to lick them. She allowed herself to enjoy the sensual sensation of his fingers traversing her back. He pressed forward, hands firmly pulling her in tighter. Clarice leaned into him following like a sheep to a Shepard. Hannibal inclined toward her lips stopping a mere inch away.

"Aside from your fractures you seem to be in perfect health." He said in a clinical tone swiftly pulling away from her leaving Clarice breathless and captivated. He packed up his flashlight before walking back toward the kitchen with his medical kit. Clarice stood in the living room alone, red faced.

'Oh my god...' She thought.


	8. Chapter Seven

Hannibal set the medical kit in a closet when he heard the bathroom door close. He took a moment closing his eyes, returning to the recent memory created with Clarice. The smell of her hair, her delicate skin, the pounding of her heart, the closeness of her heat. It was nearly impossible to prevent the smile on his face. For the first time she was willing to let him kiss her, no restraints, no fridge needed. He knew she was in the bathroom now, reprimanding herself for it but knowing she too wanted it just as much as he did. 'Don't be too harsh, my dear.'

'O'my'gawd!' She thought while slumped in the corner of the bathroom where the future tub would be installed. 'How dare he- Ugh How could I let him do that?' She shuddered thinking about the closeness of his lips, 'Why did I want it? Why do I still? I worked so hard to get rid of this feeling after that nigh...' Clarice sighed. 'Everyone warned me about his silver tongue but no one warned me about this. How he could physically manipulate me and he knows it.' Clarice's head rested on her arm that settled upon her knees which were pulled up to her chest. 'What am I going to do? I know he'll gonna play it off like nothing happened. It's all a game to him...'

Her lips set in a firm line. 'You wanna play? Fine... two can play at this.' She lifted her head, 'He won't get the best of me, he has no clue who he is dealing with. You think you know me, Doctor? You're dead wrong.' Clarice stood up, walked over to the sink, splashed some water on her face then patted herself dry; careful not to reopen any abrasions on her face. Clarice heard it as she reached for the door handle, music. She could tell it was classical and she knew he favored Goldberg Variations but she wouldn't be able to name that tune if her life depended on it.

Clarice emerged from the bathroom, scanning the area yielded no sign of the Doctor but she did notice something different. The bed had been made and there were clothes laid out for her. Clarice headed to the kitchen only to find he wasn't there either. "Doctor?" She looked around a little harder hoping she didn't look over him. Nowhere, he wasn't in the cabin. 'Outside?' She walked to the front door, cracked it open and saw the foot prints in the snow leading to a garage not far off the cabin.

The garage had no windows to confirm if he was in there but the signs pointed to it. Her heart started pounding 'I can get dress then get away...' She closed the door, 'Wait... what if he comes back while I'm getting dressed? Should I just go now?' Clarice opened the door again to check the garage. 'Is he testing me? Ok... stop... think... I can't go running off in the snow dressed like this.' She closed the door again and headed for the clothes.

Clarice rushed over to the outfit and noticed the note lying on top with his copperplate script. She looked over the set of clothes first, a grey cowl-neck cashmere sweater, black boot-cut Manhattan wash jeans, a pair of grey fleece socks and black cotton hipster underpants. 'Where did he get these?' She picked up the heavy folded note paper and opened it.

_Clarice,_

_You may only be staying until tomorrow, please enjoy this comfort instead of the pajamas. If I may make a request for you to leave the bandage on to prevent further distress on your ribs. I have no doubt you already concluded my whereabouts, you may join me if you wish. There are shoes in the front room closet. If you wish to remain then please make yourself at ease. I will return soon enough._

_-Hannibal_

Clarice glanced towards the front door again, 'I wonder what he could be doing out there.' She gathered the clothes and headed for the bathroom. Undressing wasn't too difficult with a button down shirt but dressing was a task, having to lift her arms up to slip into the shirt. Clarice's face flushed red when she found the underwear fit perfectly. 'Why am I not surprised...' The pants and socks were a comfortable fit as well. She set the folded up pjs on the bed as she passed by. In the closet near the front door was a pair of cushe navajo snow boots and a black double-breasted military coat.

Shoes on and jacket buttoned up she headed out the front door, eyeing the garage before quietly closing the door. Her heart started to pound again 'He'll come after me. I'm not gonna get far. Hopefully there's a town or neighbor nearby.' She made it down the front steps and 20 paces south before she stopped. 'No he won't... he won't chase me, If something happens to me there will be no one to look for me.' She let out a frustrated sigh. 'I made a deal, 24 hours. He'd find it rude if I took off.'

Without making a sound Hannibal stepped out of the garage side door when he spotted Clarice halfway down the front lawn. 'Hmm... going somewhere?' He watched as she hugged herself rocking back and forth on her heels in the middle of an argument with herself. He couldn't hear what she was thinking but then again he didn't need too. Hannibal's foot steps were intentionally loud enough for her to hear as he made his way back to the front porch. Clarice spun around, making eye contact with Hannibal. She made her way back to the house meeting with him on the porch. "Enjoying the view, my dear?"

"Yeah." She replied promptly, then noticed a set of wooden patio chairs on either side of a matching table. "I'm gonna sit out here for a little while, if you don't mind."

"As you wish." Hannibal smiled with a slight bow of his head before entering the cabin. Clarice enjoyed the sounds of the surrounding forest. A large lump of snow weighed down a near by tree branch before spilling to the ground. She could almost make out the sounds of hoofs off in the distance but hard to tell where they were coming from. 'Why couldn't I do it? It's not hard to run away, it might even assist my case of -Help I've been kidnapped.- Ugh... there's no helping me now. Nothing will fix this. Now with this whole assassin thing? He's gotta be wrong...' Something inside her twinged, 'When is he ever wrong? Does he have proof or is the car crash all the proof there is?' Clarice shifted the the chair to huddle with herself when the front door opened again. Hannibal emerged with two ceramic mugs of some steaming beverage. He set the cups down on the table prior to closing the front door then taking a seat.

Clarice watched him from her peripheral view, taking note that he had dawned a wool jacket. "Clarice, may make an inquiry?" He asked, settling back in the wooden frame while staring off in the distance.

"It's never stopped you before." She replied in a contemptuous tone. Hannibal was silent for a several long moments. Clarice's tone of voice invaded her own mind over and over til she began to feel embarrassed at her rudeness. "I'm sorry... Yes you may."

"Had the attack against you and I not intervened, what would you have done?"

"I would probably be in jail right now." Hearing the words spoken out loud shook her, a feeling of gratefulness filled her; thankful that she was here and not there. But where was her guilt?

"Hypothetically, let us say incarceration was not in your future, then what?"

Clarice's mind quickly flashed on all her plans, his pestering words of Hotel Maids and Night Watchmens. She tried her best to hold in a laugh, this made Hannibal turn his full attention towards her with a quizzical eyebrow raised. He had not expected this kind of reaction. Once she was able to compose herself again, "You really want to know?"

"Yes, Clarice." Completely curious now, hoping she would look at him.

"You're going to laugh at me."

"I would never."

"Do you ever laugh, Doctor Lecter?" Clarice continued to watch the tree line.

"I've had my moments... Clarice?"

"I was going to be a chamber maid or a night watchmen." She obliged meeting his eyes with a sly smile. "I've always wanted something stable, but nothing in my life has ever been stable. Now I'm not even sure if I could handle it if I had it." Hannibal watched as the smile faded into a somber look. "Is it wrong to want the driver's seat for a change?"

"Not at all but life was made not to be a smooth and unadventurous sailing; as it would be boring without any chaos in life." Clarice looked down at the cup of hot cocoa, she picked it up welcoming the warmth for her hands and sipping it to warm her stomach as well. Hannibal watched her intently, drinking in the sight of her to warm himself.

"Heh, at least you've been a stable source of chaos." She smiled to herself at her own oxymoron. This did not go unnoticed by Hannibal.

"O brawling love! O loving hate!

O heavy lightness! Serious vanity!

Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!" He leered; besting her.

"Oh ha ha." She glared back in jest. "You'll have me in stitches."

Hannibal leaned in closer as she took another sip of the rich hot cocoa, with a low husky voice he said "Mmm I'd have you in any form." She choked and flushed red, he wickedly grinned.

"I..." She flustered then swiftly gaining composer remembering his -game- from earlier, reducing the space in between them, she lowered her voice in a sultry manner. "I don't think you can handle this." Clearly knowing she was way out of her league but not one to be beaten; not by him, not now. Hannibal's eyebrow shot up, she never stopped astonishing him. 'How far are you willing to take this, Clarice?' His mind quickly processed possible scenarios and took note of the deer not far in the depths of the forest. Hannibal's plan formed before his fingers reached up to her face, contacting her cheek with a tender caress. Clarice instigated this, but maintained her position and scowl while his forefinger and thumb caught her chin, turning her head to face the front yard as three white tail deers and a fawn wandered out of the forest. "Oh wow." Clarice whispered.

Hannibal reclined back in his seat with drink in hand letting her soak in the secerie for the moment. "Tell me, Clarice, what do you plan on doing once you return?" The deer's ears perked in their direction.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Face my judgement, serve my time."

"For crimes you didn't commit? Such penitence without actual sin is scandalous, my dear."

"Yeah well, what else am I going to do? Ride off into the sunset with you?" She feigned a laugh and got silence in response. His expression was neutral and unreadable. "Seriously? You know I can't do that, Doctor." He didn't respond verbally or physically. It frustrated her. "You think you know why, don't you? Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, a lot has changed, I've changed, since you last saw me."

Clarice stood up with a amour-propre stance, watching Hannibal's eyes observe her. The deer spotted her movement sending them bounding off into the woods. "I'm nothing like I was back in those training days." She stood in front of him, leaning forward with her hands on the arm rest of his chair. She looked like a panther stalking its prey, he memerized the way her hair tumbled off her shoulders, the tight line her lips were set in, the curves of her hips and the scent of confidence. He imagined her like this; crawling towards him on the bed and it was too much.

"I'm not a litt-" Clarice was cut off when Hannibal's free hand shot up capturing her neck, just below her ear, tugging her in the direction of his face.


	9. Chapter Eight

_'Stop'_

Neither one was sure if she had thought or said the actual word but he did, he stopped just before their lips touched without ever breaking eye contact. Hannibal waited for her to make the next move. Clarice wanted to smack him for making her want him twice in one day, she also felt he wasn't fully to blame. His hand was warm, soft and steadfast in its place on her neck, but her arms were growing weaker trying to maintain her position and the the sting of pain in her ribcage made her pull away to stand, wince, and grab her chest. Hannibal set the cup down and stood up before she opened her eyes. She hadn't realized how fast he had moved til his hands found her arms.

"Clarice, you need to rest. Please come back inside." She nodded leading the way into the cabin, he followed with the mugs of cooling coco. Once they were both inside he said, "Don't move, Clarice." She stood in front of the door as Hannibal set the cups down on the kitchen table before returning to her side. He slowly unzipped her jacket and careful helped her out. "Would you like to rest on the couch or bed." He hung her jacket up, taking his off and placing it along side hers in the closet.

"The couch is fine." Clarice sat down and began to extract her boots when Hannibal knelt before her, taking over. She settled back and let him slide her boots off, watching every move he made. "Thank you." He stood with the boots in hand, placed them near the front door then took his own seat in the chair he occupied earlier. Clarice didn't hear a response to her gratitude, she knew he had extraordinary hearing and repeating herself would only pester him so Clarice laid down, using a throw pillow under her head and draped the blue blanket, he had retrieved for her earlier, over her form. It didn't take long for her to drift off to sleep.

Passing time was a minuscule task for Hannibal Lecter. He spent a majority of his time revisiting rooms of art galleries, occasionally he'd visit the first day he began to covet Clarice, the touch in Memphis, and the recently made memories. He also made a stop by the room where he kept information about his attacker. Theories were abundant. One lay furthest in the back of his mind and in his past. He was not one to deny a thought, except that one. Hannibal decided to leave his memory palace to find the sun had set, leaving the cabin in near darkness save the low crackling fire still burning. Clarice had shifted to face the back of the couch, curled up and deep in sleep. 'My dear Clarice, seeking complacency in an upholstered furniture will not do. I do hope you see what you have not lost. Time is not on our side, as it were.' Hannibal proceeded to prepare a simple dinner of Fillet Mignon and white rose potatoes.

_Clarice found herself sitting in the back of the squad car. The outside scenery wasn't familiar to her, inside the vehicle she recognized the driver as Hannibal Lecter, just as she was about to call out to him she noticed her dad sitting next to her. "Daddy, what's going on?" Clarice whispered. She feared having her father and Dr. Lecter in such close proximity even with a steel cage between them. "You're not safe here."_

_"An' you are pumpkin'?" He plucked the hat of his head and settled it in his lap._

_"I..."_

_"I know you are."_

_"No, he's dangerous."_

_"Yes but there is another danger, baby girl. He's the only one who can keep you safe and you know that." Her father clasped her hand with his with a tight squeeze. She shook her head not wanting to let that feeling rule her thoughts._

_"I don't understand how I am caught in this, who would want me dead? I haven't done anything wrong! Daddy, I tried so hard to do everything right." Her voice hitched, trying to hold back the inevitable tears of frustration._

_"I know, pumkin'. Trust me?" He brought her hand up to his mouth as she nodded, a tear rolled down her cheek watching him kiss her hand. "Bread and Butter." Clarice's vision blurred due to her tears, she attempted to blink them away preceding to find her father was no longer there. Clarice saw out the window where her father sat and spotted the car that had hit her before; it was hurdling towards the patrol car again._

_Clarice caught Hannibal's eyes regarding her through the rear-view mirror. She felt a free-falling sensation as she called out, "HANNIBAL!"_ Clarice clutched to something firm in front of her, again unable to see anything but blurry images, she tightly closed her eyes; her body shaking and tears streaming down her face. Hannibal was knelt down in front of her when she opened her eyes again, her hands grasping his shoulders, heart racing, and breath ragged.

In a distant land, far from Count Hannibal Lecter the 8th and Clarice M. Starling, resides a woman with a grudge. She is tall and eloquent and dressed in a Edo komon kimono; drifting from room to room in her large house she once considered a home but now was her tomb. She slides open a honey colored shoji door into a room she rarely visited until recently. It was dark but she quickly found candle to light, illuminating the Hannibal Lecter Memorabilia walls. All three walls where filled with pictures, newspaper clippings, police reports, FBI files, Crime scene photos, his old drawings, and personal letters addressed to her. The forth wall was permeated with Lecter's drawings of Clarice, photos of her being carried out of a barn by Hannibal Lecter, both of them having dinner in Chesapeake Bay, a photo of their kiss, shots of her entering and leaving building, and jogging with another woman. The only other objected in the room was a small but slightly taller desk; just large enough for a laptop and a phone.

The phone on the desk softly rang a couple times. The woman's hand lifted the receiver to her ear but did not speak. A voice on the other end spoke without prompt. "Konbanwa No masutā. I bear bad news. She survived."

"Then move on to the next plan."

"That's not all, my lady. -He- has her."

"What?" The other voice began to speak but she had hung up in the middle of his sentence. This was the second time she had failed to kill them. 'They are more dangerous together then apart.' She thought, placing the phone back into its cradle. An email popped up on the screen demanding her attention: **They are in Ontario, Canada. We have eyes looking now.** She did not have to bend forward to type a reply:** Capture both alive, especially Hannibal Lecter**.


	10. Chapter Nine

This chapter is dedicated to Gladwags and LovingHannibal

* * *

><p>At that moment Clarice woke up on the couch. She was back in a fetal position, her back against the world, she safely tucked into her own little world. Dinner last night had been awkwardly silent with good food. Small talk with an intelligent cannibalistic murder was no easy task. She was grateful that he had not probed her about her dream or why she called out his name in such a panic. Clarice's skin prickled when she thought about it. She hears the front door open then close followed by crunching snow sounds outside. Clarice makes her way to the bathroom and notices another set of clothes, similar tastes in fashion that she currently wore. There was once again a note on top, she scooped it up and walked into the bathroom. She read the note first:<p>

My Dear Clarice,

Please take the liberty of showering before changing. There is a gift basket on the counter for your needs. You may remove the ace bandage to shower but it will need to be placed back on afterwards. Feel free to use my assistance.

-Hannibal

She noticed the basket was filled with expensive soaps and lotions. Clarice undressed as quickly as she could and showered. The hot water felt amazing on her body but not her face because of the abrasions. She washed up and rinsed off before standing under the hot water for an unlimited amount of minutes. When she felt ready to emerge she found a plush terry cloth towel on top of a self-heating towel rack. Clarice marveled at the feeling of being wrapped in a warm cushy towel. 'Ugh, stop being so easily impressed. It's what he wants.' She thought to herself, drying off. The new outfit comprised of dark grey cotton underwear, blue jeans, and a button argyle cashmere cardigan, with a white cotton tank top for under it. There was a fresh roll of ace bandage in the gift basket. Clarice made several attempts to wrap herself but it hurt to move it around her body while trying to tighten it and not realizing all the groaning of pain she made. The knock on the bathroom door startled her.

"Yeah?"

"If you're in need of help, Clarice, just ask."

"N-no, I'm fine!" He was silent on the other side of the door as she tried again before giving up. She wrapped a towel around her chest; dressed in only jeans and socks. She opened the door to find him a foot away. The cooler air of the cabin hit her heated skin, instantly producing goosebumps; at least that was her logical reason for the cause and not his eyes or nearness with her level of clothing state. She handed him the wad of ace bandage which he quickly rolled up properly. "You can stand behind me to do it, right?" He seemed to take his time thinking about the question while his eyes looked over her torso, a slight smile emerging from his lips.

"Yes, Clarice." He looked her in the eyes to find she was not amused at all. She walked past him into the bedroom/living room area.

"There are less reflective surfaces out here." She kept her back to him, clutching the towel for a moment then letting it fall to the ground. He did not need to look around to see that she was right and nothing would reveal her. Clarice raised her hands to her hair tying it up in a self-holding-bun while keeping her arms raised for easier access for him. Hannibal stepped up behind her, memorizing the curves of her back and shoulders; wanting to let his finger tips to feel the length of her but he powered his will to restrain himself and focus on the task at hand. Hannibal started just under her xiphoid process to cover one of the fractured ribs. Two central wraps kept the end from coming loose. His pace slowed down as the bandage moved north with his hands; his body gradually closing the space between them. The smell of lilacs along with her own mixture of anatomic responses drifted from her skin and intoxicated his mind. Clarice felt the how close he had become, close enough to smell the sandal wood aftershave mix with her lilac body wash.

Hannibal closed his eyes and leaned his head in letting the tip of his nose trail along her skin, up her neck. Clarice's stomach filled with butterflies, not wanting to stop him but encourage him by exposing more of her neck; closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation. His lips brushed against her skin, inhaling her sent deeply making Clarice's skin tingle. He had no need to open his eyes and look down to see her state of arousal, her sent and the rate of her pulse gave it away. His finger tips lightly brushed against the fresh clean curves of her chest as the bandage passed over them causing a moan to escape her throat. Clarice's eyes shot open to the sound of her own vocal noise, her body went rigid and this did not go unnoticed by Hannibal. She hasn't been touch like this in a long time and she allowed him to get this close, to turn her on, and let her think of taking it further.

Her moan was harmony to his ears and he was disappointed when her body language changed to a less aroused state. 'Are you confused, my dear? Are you afraid to allow yourself this pleasure?' He wanted to press against her and help her relax but instead he waited still as the grave. "Clariice." His voice a low whisper in her ear, sending a delicious shudder coursing through her. Clarice's shoulders relaxed once more.

"Doctor," Her tone indifferent to the situation and louder then a whisper, "Do you treat all your patients like this?" His hands continued to wrap the bandage around her, but he never moved his head from it's position.

"Do you know what Oxytocin is?" His voice still a whisper, "It's a hormone released after certain 'social interaction,' studies have found that it reduces inflammation, thus allowing wounds to heal faster." His hands finished the final lap then tucked the end piece, under a fold of the bandage, on her back. Clarice took this chance to turn and face him, with no less or no more space between them then before.

"They also refer to it as the 'love hormone.' And those who are defiant are usually sociopaths, psychopaths, narcissistic and are manipulative." His expression was void of any emotion but she was clearly troubled. "They also can't empathize with others."

"Are you suggesting I don't produce enough? I have the ability to control my hormones, Clarice. Oxytocin helps induce sexual arousal and it has become a challenge to control when you are near." Clarice's face flushed red listening to his husky voice and words. "It also evokes feelings of contentment, reduction in anxiety, increase in trust, and decrease in fear." He began closing the space between them, her chest grazing his when inhaling. Clarice began to feel unstable in her knees, he had the upper hand and was winning until she spoke, surprising him.

"So we should just fuck and get it over with?" She whispered and noticed the attempt to hide his own surprise. Hannibal's hand reached up to rest just under her ear again. He was determined to break her, kiss her, and believed she wouldn't turn back after it.

"I would not simply fuck you." He leaned in closer to her; she licked her own lips.

"No, because where would the fun be in taking advantage of me then?" Her voice returning to an indifferent tone causing him to stop; his hand fell back to his side. She saw that flash of anger in his eyes, suddenly wishing she could take back everything she said. Hannibal stepped away then walked past her to the front door, leaving the cabin and Clarice alone with her thoughts.

'Bad form. Why the hell did you say that? You're pushing your luck, if he wanted to take advantage of you he'd done so by now. You already know how dangerous he is yet you insist on kicking the hornets nest!' Clarice felt sick to her stomach and an unexplained sense of guilt.

Hannibal had prepared the car in the likely hood that she decided to join him or part from him once they hit town. He had long shoveled the driveway clear before she left the house and joined him in the vehicle. It had been over 24 hours spent in his presence and she was mentally and emotionally exhausted. The ride was silent until they hit the main drag, joining other vehicles, into town.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have accused you of something you didn't do..." Her tone low but sincere.

"An apology is not necessary"

"Yes it is. It's just... to me... you just seem to get what you want, when you want it."

"I don't believe I intentionally pursued my incarceration."

"No, maybe not that; although you have no one to blame but yourself."

"And I was justly rewarded?" Lecter took note of a car following him a little to closely when he would change lanes or pass a slower driver.

"I believe you got what you deserved. You seem to take whatever you think should be yours."

"As in my own freedom, which you believe I lost all rights too?"

"Yes."

"And when I took other's lives?"

"Yeah." Clarice tried to contain the anger she felt when the images of his crimes flashed in her minds eye.

"And you, Clarice?" He continued. She sat speechless, looking out the window to hide her pink cheeks. "I would not take you just to have out of an infantile possessive mentality, my dear." The surrounding area became less woodsy feeling to more farm lands then to outskirt podunk town feeling.

"No, you want me to come to you willingly, to offer myself to you. Why? So you could have another win against the FBI? You evaded them for years, then you escaped and continue to evade them. So I'd be the cherry on top!" Her voice raised a few decimals. "Well guess what? You're gonna be disappointed ta know tha' it ain't happin'." Her West Virgina accent beamed with her angry words. "Stop the car."

"Clarice." His tone in a low warning growl. Hannibal Lecter hadn't realized his tight grip on the stirring wheel as he pulled over and stopped.

"NO!" She had already unbuckled and was out the door before the car fully stopped. She slammed the door hard before he sped off.

A car following them pulled into a gas station less than half a block from where Clarice was dropped off. Two men sat in the dark tinted vehicle. One man picked up a phone and called his superior. "She's been dropped off just before town."

"Where is Lecter?"

"Heading to the airport."

"Follow the girl. If they fail to capture him at his destination then we can use her." The man hung up the phone as the two emerged from the vehicle and followed Clarice in to a diner across the street.

Clarice entered the diner, it was modest with two truck drivers sitting at the bar. She walked up and hailed the waitress. "Ma'am, is there a phone I can use?" The older lady, tired of serving the same old shitty food everyday, pointed to a payphone at an entrance she hadn't used. Clarice sighed. "I actually don't have any cash on me." She patted her coat pocket and found a lump in one. Clarice pulled out a wad of cash and become aware that Lecter had planned for this. There was more then enough to get her home and in style if she wished. "Oh... there it is." She tried to play it off. "Guess I'll order some pancakes and eggs." The woman nodded yelling back to the cook in French. Clarice took a seat at a both when two Asian men walked in wearing suits and settled at a corner booth in front of her. The waitress walked over to take their order of coffee.

Hannibal's knuckles were white gripping the steering wheel as he sped down the highway over 120mph. He began to realize that his entire body was tense, his jaw ached from clenching. A couple deep breathes and he returned to his cool and collective self. Last time he recalled letting his anger take the best of him was when Grutas spoke of him eating his own sister, just before he killed him. 'Clarice, if only you knew how much sway you have over me.' He was both enchanted and filled with animosity with how she effected him. Hannibal had expected that she would leave but he didn't have to except it. There was time yet to get her back and catch the plane. He turned the car around and slowed down to just above the speed limit, no need to get a ticket and he figured she could use the time to cool down.

It didn't take long for Clarice's food to show up. In an attempt to enjoy her food she took small bites and savored it, except the food was horrible and the eggs tasted of plastic compared to Hannibal's cooking. Instead she rushed to eat most of it, then left a large tip. She felt eyes watching her, was it the truck drivers or the men in suits? She tossed it off as paranoia. The waitress was kind enough to exchange a larger bill for change to use the payphone. Every endeavor to get the damn thing working failed her. "Ma'am, you're phone isn't working."

"There's another one at the gas station." She said pointing the way.

"Thank you!" Clarice made her way out. As she got to the side walk she heard the diner door open again. A large glass window reflected the image behind her. It was the Asian men in suits who followed her. Half way across the deserted 4 lane highway, she noted that the men had split up and began flanking her on either side. 'Damn.' She thought, then bolted across the second half and into an alleyway when they gave chase. One of them jumped, hitting her low back as they both tumbled to the ground. She rolled over and kicked him square in the jaw as the other one rushed up, catching her legs from kicking him, he knelt down to cover her mouth with a rag as she began to scream. She felt the a moister on the rag over her mouth and held her breath. With her arms still free, she feigned an struggle to pry his hands off then passed out. Clarice's lungs burned for air and finally he released her. The first man recovered from the kick to his face and both began talking in Japanese. That's when she heard the sound of a roaring engine similar to Hannibal Lecter's car. It slowed down, did he pull in close somewhere?

Lecter pulled up in to the gas station close to where he had dropped her off. The black car was also in the parking area was standard but he recognized the licence plate when they were driving into town. He looked at the diner and didn't spot her through the windows. As he headed towards the gas station doors he heard Clarice screaming then a loud popping sound and she was silent.

Clarice knew how to take a punch to the face, properly. She was able to lessen the blow and stay conscious afterwards; even though she wish she hadn't just to avoid the piercing pain in her head. The guy, she kicked in the face, now pinned her legs down while the man who punched her had straddled and pinned her wrists down above her head. "Be a good girl." His accent was thick American-Japanese. Clarice ignored him and continued to struggle when she heard the sound of fast paced footsteps. She couldn't see the entrance of the alley but she saw both men turn their heads to the newcomer.

"Sora wa Han'nibaru-desu" The man on top of her mumbled to his partner.

"My reputation perceives me I see." Hannibal Lecter said blocking the only exit from the alley. Clarice's heart soared momentarily when she heard his voice. "I'll ask you politely and only once to remove yourselves from the lovely lady." The Asian man at her feet released her; only to stand and challenge Dr. Lecter by pulling out a short sword, other wise known as a Tantō, sheathed and hidden in his suit. He advanced towards the Good Doctor, unsheathing the weapon; his partner, still on top of Clarice, watched. Clarice took this chance to buck him off by using his moment of misguided attention. She rolled onto her stomach and was on her feet in no time while he was still struggling to find his footing.

Hannibal Lecter dodged a swipe to his head from the attacker, grabbed the offenders arm, twisting it behind his own back and slamming him against a brick wall before relieving him of the weapon. Clarice's attacker finally stood, unsheathing his own Tantō and lunged for her. They both collided into a large dumpster, struggling to obtain a better position to over throw the other. Hannibal crushed the cervical vertebra's of his opponent with the handle of the Japanese sword, letting the limp body slump to the melting snow of the alleyway before rushing to Clarice's aid.

The Asian man swept a foot under Clarice causing her to fall sideways, she felt the pain vibrate throughout her body as she hit the lightly snow covered cement. Hannibal approached ready to strike but the assassin turned and blocked the on coming attack. With the Tantō in his left hand, Hannibal retrieved his harpy with his right slashing at the assassin's face creating a large gash in his cheek. It did not slow the attacker down as they continued to spar.

The ex-FBI agent sat up and watched them both battle. Hannibal was fluid in his movement, no doubt he would be with his history. She'd never seen him move so beautifully and it was mesmerizing. Just as she pried her eyes away to search for a makeshift weapon she heard Dr. Lecter call to her.

"Clarice, run back to the car!" Hannibal growled as he dodged a thrust.

"No, not without you." She was on her feet still looking for anything useful to her.

"Please, Clarice. It is not a request." He said between clenched teeth as he locked swords with the assassin then, with his harpy, stabbed the the man's free hand before he slammed the attacker's body against a buildings wall; knocking the wind out of the assailant and opening a path for Clarice's safety.

"I'm not leaving you, Hannibal!" Her words echoed off the walls back through her ears while the phrase quaked his heart and body, a grin crept across his face. She saw it without him turning to her. Hannibal swiftly brought a knee into the stomach of the assassin making him double over with lack of air and pain from the harpy stuck in his hand. Clarice raced up to Hannibal's side as he took the short sword from the gasping man. "Let's go."

"No, Clarice. We are not finished."

"Wh-what? No just leave him." Hannibal turned to her, no longer smiling.

"And do you think he will treat us in the same fashion? No. He will continue to follow us, Clarice." She bit the inside of her lip knowing he was right.

"Let the cops deal with him." She offered, he raised an eyebrow then a voice stinging from his past in the back of his mind.

"For what cause, Clarice? When a pedestrian passes by it will look as if they were mugged."

"So dead is better?" She whispered in an attempt to control her anger. "Please give me the knife and let's leave." Clarice laid a hand on his arm. Hannibal's mind raced down many tracks; weighing the outcome of the man's life, their lives, and building Clarice's trust. He'd been here before but those doors were closed. She smiled when he relinquished the weapon.

At their feet the man that still gasped for air had pulled the harpy from his hand and like a snake stuck Hannibal Lecter in the mid-thigh, Clarice grasped his arm when his leg gave out sending him kneeling with a grunt of surprise and minor pain. The short sword plunged down between the man's cervical vertebrae 6 and 7 cutting through his trachea and slicing his cricoid cartilage in half; the tip of the blade barely extended out the anterior portion of his throat. His body shook, gasping for more air before going limp and sliding off the Tantō.

Hannibal felt Clarice's hand continue to grip his arm as he carefully calculated her expression of anger, dilated pupils, and the scent of her skin emitting high adrenalin levels. Her hand released the sword, letting it fall on top of the now dead man, she turned her attention to Hannibal's wound. "Are you ok?"

"I'll be fine. I can not pull the blade out until we are somewhere safe." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a set of keys. "Will you bring the car around, my dear?" She took off with the keys while he pulled the body of the dead man behind a large dumpster. The first man Hannibal took out was not dead, but was paralyzed from the neck down. Clarice arrived after Hannibal placed the second man, now dieing from a gash across his throat, behind the garbage. At this point Clarice didn't care to talk about their attackers, her only thoughts were getting Dr. Lecter somewhere safe.


	11. Chapter Ten

This chapter is dedicated to Steal Beating Heart, thank you for all your hard work and contribution to this chapter and for inspiring me!

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><p>It didn't take long to arrive at a characterless and raffish motel. Not being ideal but doable for a night or two. They pulled up in front of the office, Clarice drummed her fingers on the steering wheel; her heart had been thumping against her rib cage the entire drive, now she was about to rent a room with a psychotic cannibal. She saw the attendant behind the counter, watching tv, and she wondered if Dr. Lecter would go in or send her in. Would he trust her not to tell the tall lanky man to inform the police? Would she trust herself not too? She had been so consumed with her own thoughts that she didn't realize Hannibal's stare intently watching as she sifted through her own cloudiness. Clarice's fingers now gripped the wheel.<p>

"Clarice." Lecter's voice was intentionally low in tone and pitch to prevent her from jumping. He could sit and watch her all night but his wound would need attention soon.

Knowing all the options had already run through that delicious mind of hers, he simply said one word, "Please."

She sat for a long moment before swiftly moving from the car and entering the motel. Lecter watched with interest as she quickly spoke with the greasy attendant. She hadn't phoned the police, surprise and pride flashed through his maroon eyes as he watched Clarice exit the office and back to the car; room key in hand and the attendant ogling after her from behind the counter.

She slipped back into the car, then proceeded to park in the spot in front of their temporary abode. Clarice unlocked the motel door before Hannibal climbed out of the car and barely limped into the shabby room. Hannibal scanned the room as he entered, a simple layout, one bed; queen, did they not have two twin bed option? This didn't bother him, but Clarice will have a few choice words.

Hannibal made his way into the bathroom, "Clarice will you be so kind and bring the black duffle bag from the trunk of the car?" Clarice nodded rushing back out the door, not long after her return did she find him in the bathroom settled on the side of the, sickly shade of green, tub.

"What can I do to help?" She knelt down before him. He watched as her worried expression intensified with a closer inspection of his wound. Hannibal had already evaluated his position, he would not need a second pair of hands but knowing she would not go even if he asked; he would not ask her to do such a thing when she was all to willing to help.

"Grab the medical box from the black duffle bag, find the scissors." He said as if instructing her to drive a car. She located the medical box, placed it at her side then pulled out a pair of medical scissors. Clarice rotated back to him. Hannibal used a finger to draw out a line on his thigh, "Cut along here, then a T section towards the knife."

Clarice took in a deep breath to steady herself, scooting a little closer. She paced herself cutting the fabric and not him. She nearly finished the T section when the scissors bumped the blade causing his leg to twitch. She stopped, "Sorry, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Clarice. Continue." His eyes watched her fingers intently. She set the scissors down and pulled back the cut flaps of his pants away from the blade.

"Now grab a clean towel from the bag, I'm going to pull the knife out and you are going to apply pressure. Can you do that, Clarice?"

"Of course, I've taken basic medical course." She pulled out a hand towel. Hannibal leaned over and grabbed the medical kit, setting in on the rim of the tub with him.

Hannibal grasped and ripped the knife from his thigh. Clarice was quick to cover the wound and press down hard. a sharp exhale from him caught her attention. Most men would grunt or growl with just pain, not him, he kept composure even with excruciating pain. Her knees were starting to feel sore on the, horribly chosen, tiled floor. Clarice attempted to shift while keeping her compression firm when Hannibal's hand rested on top of hers.

"Sit next to me, it will be easier on your legs." She nodded to his suggestion, changing positions to sit on the rim of the tub with him; her leg against his as a brace when she took over the compression. Hannibal reached over to turn on the tub momentarily running the knife under water before shutting it off again. Hannibal opened the medical box, placing the knife there preceding to prepare a needle and thread.

Several minutes passed as she watched him prepare to stitch up his own leg when he turned to her, "I believe the bleeding will have slowed enough for me to suture this up. Would you please grab the other bags from the car?"

"Dr. Lect-" she finally looked up into his eyes.

"Clarice, I welcome your vexation but I assure you that I am out of harm's way. Undeviatingly from your actions." A smile tenderly crossed his face, "Thank you, Clarice."

The last time she recalled a similar smile from him was at Chesapeake Bay, accompanied with such a compliment that nearly had her in tears. His smile brought back the sensation of his fingers caressing her cheek. Clarice decided to not argue with him and left the bathroom, closing the door on her way out. She swiftly made her way to the car to retrieve the other bags. As she opened the trunk, a familiar bell tone sounded off in the distance. She groaned to herself when she heard a fast paced crunch of gravel under shoes headed her way.

Clarice prepared her best facade for the motel manager as he approached her. "Miss Dante?"

"Yes?" she turned to face him.

"I just wanted to thank you for choosing our establishment." He glanced at the trunk of her car, spotted her bags before continuing, "May I help you with your bags?" He stepped in closer to reach for them.

"No, thank you, I'm capable of taking them in." Clarice closed the trunk door most of the way, to prevent him from doing so.

"Oh. Alright. Miss... um..."

She knew he was searching for her first name and that he had no capacity to remember, "Calistro." She filled in for him.

"Calistro Dante." His smile revealed his two front teeth protruding forward. His lanky body, greasy as if he has bathed in oil and his face pock marked from years of sever acne had reminded her of an Eel smiling. "So... I uh," He stammered on, "I saw a man with you." Clarice caught him glancing at the door of their room. She had forgotten to put down his name when she ordered the room. A quick thought processed and she felt more confident about killing two birds with one stone to prevent this man attempting any unwanted advances toward her.

"Oh yes. That's my husband." Her heart fluttered when she heard the sound of her own voice. "Alan Tercel. I apologize, we are recently married and I tend to let it slip from my memory." She was thankful to see the discouragement in his face and that he did not look for a ring on her left hand.

"if there's anything else-" She started before he nervously cut her off.

"Oh no. Please have a great night. And don't hesitate to call the front desk for anything." He took a couple steps back before turning around fully and walked back to the office. Clarice waited until then to open the truck, pull the two last bags out, then precede to the room door.

She found that it hadn't been closed all the way and it was easy to push open using a bag. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darker room as she stepped in and used her foot to close the door she spotted two red pinpoints of light in the corner. In the instance it took for her eyes adjusted was when she spotted Hannibal sitting in a chair; fingers interlaced under his nose, hiding the smile on his face.

Clarice set the bags down on the bed then flicked a light switch to brighten the dreary room. "How much did you hear?" She asked averting her eyes to some hideous painting of a sail boat.

"Enough." His smile mockingly shown through the tone of his voice. "I quite like how you defused the situation, Clarice."

"Yeah I'm sure you do, at least he won't pursue me." Clarice opened the one duffle, brown with pink trim, to find articles of women's clothing; meant for her.

"Unquestionably, when you are singing of hymeneals, Clarice." Lecter stood, paced himself as he approached just short of a few steps from her and the second bag, black with red trim, for him. "I am particularly interested in your choice of names." She fiddled with a shirt, feeling him approach.

"Don't tell me you didn't catch the meaning behind Tercel, Doctor." She pretended to be interested in the shirt.

"Oh I did, my dear, and must I say 'your anagrams are showing,' but I was hoping for more insight into your own personal pseudonym, Clarice." He noted, with a smile that made Clarice's stomach tie itself in knots of unease and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. Was it dread, fear? Possibly, she had known others to crumble into a whimpering ball under one of Doctor Lecter's lesser looks but she didn't feel anything like that. Instead the strange feeling she got was more of a pleasant flutter of anticipation of the next moment they would share together. She knew she shouldn't be feeling this way about anyone especially him. She shouldn't be anticipating the next time she would feel his fingers on her bare skin or feel the glorious warmth of his kiss. She shouldn't be feeling a longing need to be close to this man but there was just something about him.

Correction it was everything about him, his deep husky voice that was never more than a whisper and yet could be somehow louder than any shout with one of his insults. His silver tongue that somehow managed to probe the most intimate, dark places of her mind and push all the right buttons to make her find him so charming and irresistible. Then there were his eyes, his hypnotic eyes that seemed to penetrate her soul and make her feel as if there was nothing she could do that he wouldn't already anticipate. It gave her an undeniable feeling of need to be around Doctor Lecter that she had never felt with anyone before and so it was a feeling that she would always associate with him.

"It was nothing, just something I remembered from Greek mythology that's all" she muttered avoiding making eye contact with The Doctor at all costs. Yet she could see it out of the corner of her eye, as the smile turned into a grin as Lecter fixing her with that un-swayable, predatory gaze of his. It always made her feel slightly vulnerable when he gave her that look, like she was a tiny little starling being watched by the cruel and powerful hawk and the twisted thing about it was that it always turned her on.

She tried her hardest to ignore the predatory grin she knew was there waiting for her to turn around. The mere thought of it made an involuntary shiver run through her, starting as a tingling sensation on the bare skin at the nape of her neck. It reminded her of how his breath had felt against her neck when he had been changing her bandages and she remembered the feeling of his skillful fingertips at the apex of her breast giving her a moment of pleasure before they were gone. She had to mentally kick herself for bringing that mental image up now under Lecter's watchful eye. He body had reacted naturally and she was aroused by the memory, her heartbeat increasing to something of a flutter and she knew it as a mistake.

"I believe your choice of nom de plume had more meaning then you think, Clarice." He paused for a moment. "Callisto was one of Artemis' hunting attendants. She took a vow for Artemis... just as you did for ol' Jackie boy. Tell me Clarice, truthfully, was Jack Crawford there for you; after Chesapeake Bay?"

Clarice already knew he would be watching her every move with interest, waiting for her to tense up or revile her emotions in some. Though this would be a rookie mistake and she had known Doctor Lecter for far too long to fall for something like that.

"No, Doctor." Taking in a deep breath, she physically relaxed, softening her posture slightly as she pretended that she was unaware of his smile or the intriguing affect it had on her.

"And am I to assume you received a magazine, to which similar copies were sent to FBI heads and judges on your case?" He watched the wheels turn in her head as she placed pieces together.

"Would that be Hera, Doctor? Trying to convince Artemis that I am an animal to be hunted?"

"Yes, Clarice."

"And what part do you play, Doctor Lecter?" She raised a brow in his direction, "Are you Zeus? Have been seducing me all these years?" She cocked a small smile with the word seducing. "And are you here to save me? To place me among the stars?" Their eyes locked together in equally intensified gazes. "Am I fated to circle the North Star and never set over the horizon?" Clarice smiled coyly. "So is that what you think of me Doctor?" Her tone reflecting her demure. "Someone to seduce and save?" Hannibal felt her chipping away at his self control, deflecting his tactics to provoke her as if they were petty annoyances. She didn't fall for the bate he placed; instead she focused her sights on him. Was he becoming the proverbial hunted hunter?

"You are so much more than that, Clarice." His voice dropped down to a huskier tone. Hannibal watched her shuddering reaction to his words. She shifted her focus to examine another shirt from her case instead of the stimulating prickle from his gaze at the back of her neck. She frowned for a minute as her fingertips passed over the material of the shirt; it was soft and incredibly smooth reminding her of polished, high quality silk. "Just like him, extravagant as ever" she thought to herself with a smile yet as carefully unfolded the garment she was shocked to find that it was not a shirt at all but instead a very small and oh so revealing little night gown. It looked as if it had been bought from a high end lingerie store, the type that claim that they are a 'boutique of the erotic' to stand out from your run of the mill sleazy porno sellers.

Clarice couldn't help but admire the quality of the garment, the stitches were almost invisible and everything about it was luxurious. Usually she would appreciate a fine piece of clothing such as this but it was something that lovers would exchange before spending a passionate night together. The thought of this put her somewhat on edge. What was the meaning of the night gown? What kind of game was Lecter playing, was he just testing her? It was possible, in fact it was a distinct possibility that he was just trying to mind fuck her as usual.

She quickly put the night gown back, lying it in the lid of the suitcase while she search through the rest of the clothing "that smug, conniving bastard" she thought to herself as she found that there weren't any other type of bed clothes so she would be forced to wear the flirtatious piece of lingerie that practically screamed 'fuck me' or be forced to sleep in the dirty clothes she was currently wearing. Neither of these options were particularly appealing but she would have to weigh up which were the lesser of two evils. The latter option, sleeping her itchy grim filled and bloody clothes was an option that she found really quite revolting as all she wanted to do was be free of the things and never see them again. If she could she would strip of the things, shower and then set the offensive clothes on fire to rid herself of them permanently of them. This left here with the first option, the skimpy little nightgown. The thought of just what Lecter would do to her if she wore that thing to bed made all the blood rush to her face in a violent blush.

"Is everything alright, my dear Clarice?" Lecter asked the words 'my dear' causing a deepening of the blush in Clarice's cheeks.

"Yes everything is fine Doctor I'm just a little warm that's all. I think I will go get a glass of water" she said rather stiffly before marching off into the bathroom. Not that she could get a glass of water if she wanted, what came out of the tap could hardly be described as water. It was cloudy, brown and has pieces of what she hoped to god was rust floating in it. She would catch a disease the second her lips touched the glass so she poured the horrifying liquid back down the sink and returned defeated.

"The water here is bad, I guess having any type of drink is out of the question" she said sourly more to herself than the Doctor as she exited the bathroom.

"Not exactly" Lecter said with a lizard like smile. "I happen to have a very nice vintage of cognac that I think you would enjoy and it is certainly better than the filth that seems to constitute water in this particular establishment. So what do you say then Clarice, can I tempt you into a glass or two?" he asked with a purr.

She hesitated for a moment weighing up the options in her head but her parched throat won the internal argument "What the hell, what harm could a drink do. Besides a drink would do you good as well take you mind off some of that pain you are in, you can mask it as much as you want but you can't hid it from me Doctor. You were just stabbed in the leg and all" she said sounding like the voice of reasoning.

Doctor Lecter fixed her with a frown for a moment before she shrugged "You're right" he admitted before he went to fetch the bottle of cognac from his suitcase along with two glasses. Pouring the rich amber liquid into the glass tumblers he handed Clarice the one with a more generous helping and watched with a smile as she took a gulp of the warming liquid.

After all, what harm could a drink do.

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><p>Down a road winding, through the foot hills of Kiyokawa at dusk, a young man drove his car with frightening speed. He knew these roads all too well. The ability to which he shifted the vehicle in gear was smooth and seamless. The young man arrived at his destination, an old and traditional, Shinto shrine; out of use and bought up by the very woman who now resided there. He exited his car, taller then most Asians and averaging the same height as any European descendant. One hand brushed through his short trimmed hair as he reached the Torii at bottom of the stairs. His lean legs powered him up swiftly until he reached the top.<p>

The young man jogged down the Sandō pathway and around the Haiden to the main entrance of the Honden also known as the main hall. He entered the main building and removed his shoes before venturing farther in. The guts of the shrine had been redesigned to feel more like a home and less of a place for worship. The young man traveled down the corridors and stopped at the opening of a kitchen; where he found the owner of the home.

"My lady." He bowed deeply to her.

"Kenji... I was not expecting you to show up so soon." She said without turning to greet him but waved her hand to a near by seat.

"I'm sorry for the unexpected visit. But I thought it would be better to see you rather than over the phone." He entered the kitchen and sat down, watching her arrange a vase of flower. She did not reply so he continued on, "Takashi and Yuu haven't reported in, there was a report of two Asian men murdered not far from where we suspected Lecter was hiding. The last call we received was that Lecter dropped the woman off. We assumed he was leaving her behind but I suspect he went back for her." One hand rubbed at his temple, "It seems off for him to move like that. I've been tracking him and studied his M.O. He never double backs, except…" He trailed off as he watched her nimble fingers gingerly placed each unique flower in the arrangement.

"When you are dealing with a man, like Hannibal Lecter, you should never assume. That was a mistake and must not be forgotten."

"Yes, my lady."

"He will want to leave Canada and soon. Check all small aircraft airstrips for flights to Europe over the next 72 hours, and have someone else maintain an eye on any passenger ships as well." She finished the floral arrangement as the sun dissipated over the horizon. Kenji stood and bowed deeply to her once more before leaving her in the darkened kitchen.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Thank you for the reviews and words of encouragement! I'd specially like to thank Steal Beating Heart, she helped co-write this chapter and inspires me. Here's a little taste of Lemon for you!**

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><p>Clarice let the third glass of cognac warm her throat as it slipped down. She dreaded the sleeping arrangement and stressed over the fact that he packed a silk nightie. The effects of the alcohol were beginning to kick in and she felt a little less inclined to hold her tongue. 'Want to know me in a private life, Doctor? Now is your chance.' Her smug thought process wasn't helping much. She noticed Hannibal had claimed the one chair, tucked away in a corner while she sat at the edge of the bed facing him, the glass rolling in between her hands.<p>

Hannibal still nursed the second glass as he watched her fidget, little tells of nervousness shown through; toe tapping, rolling the glass, her masseter tightening and releasing tension- no doubt along with any thoughts traversing her mind, and his favorite; biting her bottom lip. He had hoped the drinks would help calm her nerves, liquid courage they call it. 'What would you do with all that courage, Clarice? You are unquestionably brimming with prowess. What will it take to release it?' He contemplated as she came to her own conclusion to bring up the dreaded situation.

"So, Doctor..." Her voice closer to a whisper. Clarice cleared her throat and sat up straight. "How is this going to work?"

"How is what going to work, Clarice?" He tilted his head, well knowing what she was talking about. Clarice downed the last of her drink before setting the glass on a nearby nightstand; she wished she hadn't made eye contact at that moment. His eyes always intruded her thoughts and read her chapter by chapter. She couldn't avert her eyes now and felt as if she had been hypnotised by his deep maroon eyes.

"Well Doctor I thought it would be obvious to one who is so keen on observation." Clarice said feeling quite bold due to the amount of alcohol warming her blood. "We both know you know what I'm referring to.." Hannibal set his drink down, picking up the bottle; half full, he stood and made his way over to her. He seem to loom over her. She was determined not to feel small and climbed to her knees on the bed as he arrived, reaching and pouring her a new glass liquids. He smiled as she met with him; eye to eye. He placed the bottle down as he stood in front of her.

In that instance she stopped biting her bottom lip and he watched as the blood rushed back in, still holding the drink for her. Clarice Starling glanced at the glass, drank it down quickly; giving Hannibal a chance to admire her neck muscles work and the fine shape of her exposed clavicle. A satisfied sigh passed her lips, when she locked her gaze with him, both took notice of the other's pupils dilate.

"I know what you want, Doctor Lecter." Clarice's smile filled with confidence as she licked her lips. Hannibal stood stock still, preventing himself from showing any sign of what she alluded to. Clarice leaned in closer to him while she kept her balance; which started to corrode. He felt an electric static emit from her skin and the emanation of her pheromones as they pronounced themselves past the aroma of fine cognac.

"And what would that be, Clariiice?" He relieved her of the empty glass placing it next to the bottle. With her hands now unoccupied she felt an emptiness that ached to be filled. The heat of her arms wrapped around his neck, loosely, but enough to help stabilize her as the last drink began its affect.

"You want me, I can see it in your eyes." Clarice's stomach knotted up hearing herself voice a realization that she, while sober, did not want to acknowledge. "Am i correct?" She asked at the same time her arms reeled him in closer.

Hannibal's voice came out in a harmonious rasp as her chest rose and fell away from his own, she pulled him in closer to her face. "Beauty in a virtuous woman's face makes the eyes yearn, and strikes the heart, so that the eyes' desire is reborn again, and often, rooting there with longing, stays." Clarice blinked several times, thrown off by his recitation of a poem. She had only meant to tease him as he had to her.

"Is that a fancy way of saying yes, Doctor?"

"No, Clarice, it is a fancy way of saying how beholding you are to me." Her sharp intake of breathe indicated the precise moment his fingers found the soft warm skin under her shirt. The pads of his fingers slowly traveled up her sides. Clarice closed her eyes focusing on the tingling sensation coursing through her body. Her arms pulled him in the final inch til their bodies pressed together, using his stability as her own. The tip of his nose greeted her chin before traveling along her jaw line as he inhaled the scent of her skin.

Her fingers gripped his hair as his lips found the crest where her neck and shoulder met. A moan escaped her lips as she felt his teeth brush lightly against her skin where he left a slight impression of a chaste kiss. Oh how she wanted him to bite down with those infamous teeth of his. she didn't care about the pain, in her drunken state, she was half anaesthetised and wouldn't feel any of the pain. She would feel the pleasure though, that was something she counted on as she had spent many a night wondering just how many ways Doctor Lecter, a man who excelled in so many things could bring her pleasure; but would he do it? That was the question and she longed to feel his teeth penetrating the soft spot he was currently kissing.

Clarice Starling always had a bit of a thing for being bitten, it had been there for as long as she could remember. The strange fascination with how it would feel to be bitten while in the hot and satisfying embrace of a lover, but as of yet no lover of hers had obliged deeming it too weird and dangerous a fetish to carry out. However Doctor Lecter was different, no man she had ever met even remotely compared to him not just for the obvious reasons. She had noticed it the first day she had met Doctor lecter and it had disturbed her back then but now she found it appealing. The way he seemed to give off an electric crackle of energy that you could feel from across a crowded room. It was so unusual and it felt so feral, so wild it was almost primal and it appealed to her in this very same way.

Then there were his deep maroon eyes they seemed to hold such power behind them and Clarice wondered what it would be like to stare into his eyes as they fucked. No not Fucked, that was too vulgar, too cheap Doctor Lecter would never do that to her as he was a gentleman of class and taste. He would instead make love to her, caressing her entire body inside and out bringing her to an orgasmic high again and again branding his love on her skin as he watched her with those mesmerising eyes of his. Oh how Clarice wanted that to happen but even as she felt The Doctor's kiss warming her skin she knew it wouldn't happen it was just a fantasy. The only reason she could admit she wanted it, wanted him, was because of her state of inebriation.

In the morning the walls would go back up and she would pretend that she didn't remember a thing and that nothing had changed between the pair. She would pretend that she didn't want to feel his lips urgently crushing against hers as they both fumbled to get undressed. or that she didn't want to feel his teeth penetrating her flesh moments before he thrust into her molten core. It would just remain a little fantasy and her little secret that those thoughts existed at all.

Clarice leaned back pulling him with her as she laid back on the bed, it wasn't the softest bed she's laid on but it beat a couch. Doctor Lecter inhaled deeply enjoying the smell of Clarice's Jasmine washed hair and the sent of soap that clung to every pore of her skin. Yet it was her own sent that was the most appealing and it spiked delightfully as his lips found there way to the delicately soft curve where her neck met her shoulder. The aroma that met his nostrils was a mix between cognac and Clarice's own arousal, the latter being the more predominant and interesting of the two aroma's and Doctor Lecter hoped he would get a chance to discover it further. He placed another kiss against her neck this time allowing himself to enjoy it as he deepened it against her skin. This didn't illicit a moan from Clarice as he had hoped so he decided to up the game a little the tip of his tongue reaching out to taste the glory of her skin. His eyes closed as he savoured their closeness and her taste burst against his tongue, salty and sweet and oh so unique to her that it just made him want to taste more of her. It was then that he realised Clarice had gone limp in his arms.

The strong cognac had been too much for her system on an empty stomach and with the excitement of their intimate embrace she had fallen asleep. He knew he should feel annoyed, cheated that she fell asleep on him but as he unhooked her arms from around his neck and gently tucked her into bed he knew he couldn't be mad at her. From in the depths of sleep she looked so beautiful so peaceful that Doctor Lecter found himself quite speechless. Not that anything needed to be said about the sleeping ex-FBI agent; who he admired so. "Goodnight, my dearest Clarice." He whispered bending to leave a kiss upon her temple.

Hannibal stood brushing a strand of hair from her face before turning to retrieve his bag and headed to the washroom to change. After he emerged, dressed in a fresh set of clothes, he grabbed the car keys and set out. The sun had started to set, which meant he still had time to purchase a disposable phone plus a few items and make a phone call before returning to the motel room.

The sun had long set by the time he pulled back into the motel parking. He entered the room with a couple bags, some contained food and bottled water for the inevitable hang-over Clarice will no doubt experience. He studied her languish form and noticed she kicked the blanket off, but the sheet below clung to the contours of her body. Hannibal set the bags down in the chair as he walked around to her side of the bed when he spotted the pile of clothes she wore thrown on the ground. Had she recalled where she was or with whom or had she still been in a drunken stupor when she undressed? In any case Hannibal thought it would be wiser to lay above the covers. He placed the bedspread back over her body and, as quietly as he could, retrieved a spare blanket from the closet then carefully laid down; making sure not to move the bed springs too much as he got comfortable. The quilt help give her the privacy she deserved, as much as he wanted to climb under the covers with the feisty little vixen now was not the time and it would only put him in the metaphorical dog house.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**A/N: Ok, I apologize for the lateness, for anyone who is still interested in this story. I'm at the very end of my schooling (about to take my MBLEx *Massage and Body License Exam.*) Plus it didn't help that I got sucked into The Labyrinth fics. But a few days ago I had the urge to finish this and, damnit, I will finish this! This is a little short and I had help from the lovely Steal Beating Heart.**

**Thank you and please enjoy. :) **

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><p><em>Clarice sat at kitchen table, a large bowl of prepackaged snowballs in front of her. Next to the that was an orange, it's fragrance rich and mouth watering, peeled and cut into wedges, a knife with the tip missing sat close by, along with her father's marshal hat. Her father leaned back in a seat closest to her, but his attention was focused out the sliding glass back door with a worrisome look. He seemed to sit taller then she remembered, she also felt smaller than before. Clarice looked down at her tiny hands gripping a crayon with a picture of what looked like a dog. She tried hard to seek out any detail in her drawing but it caused a nauseating pain in her head. Clarice decided to look at her father, trying to think of something to say. There was so much she wanted to talk about but choosing the right words seemed difficult.<em>

_"Baby girl," He started, "Do you 'member tha' one summer?" He continued to stare out the glass door behind Clarice. "You begged me ta git you a dawg?" She couldn't remember much from her childhood, most of them were painful memories. "I said we couldn't afford it, then some fateful day..." Her father nodded to the door, "He showed up."_

_Clarice turned her whole body in the chair to find a shaggy form of a dog curled up next to the glass outside. Her eyes widened as something inside her sparked, she remembered the dog. "When he first star'ed showin' up he kept to the forest line in the backyard. He'd disappear during the day and be back by nightfall. Right away I knew he weren't no regular dog... he was a wolf. When I told the boys at the station they hadn't believed me and said the last wolf seen here was in 1897." Slowly she clambered down off the tall chair, "Then you saw him one night after dinner, jus' as he reached the porch" and she walked over to the glass, sitting down on her knees, palms pressed against the glass. "You two stared at each other. I was damn scared he'd try to bust through tha' glass an' gobble you up." The shaggy hound sat up; revealing a beautiful pattern of black and grey running along his spine falling to the sides into a faded orange; his fur showed sign of his older age but still looked velvety soft. The wolf began to stretch out his worn out limbs as her father continued, "I recall you both meeting at the glass, despite my warnings not too. You never did listen to the rules, Clarice." She heard her name and turned her head to her father. "Do you remember what you told me?" She shook her head, her sad eyes searching for the lost memory._

_"You said 'Don't worry daddy, he won't hurt me.'"_ Clarice heard a loud snap she quickly turned back to see two unusually red eyes staring straight back at her. The wolf's face seamlessly shifted to a mans face, the eyes never changing. Clarice found herself fully awake and straddled over Hannibal's body with her hands unintentionally gripping the headboard.

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><p>Doctor Lecter had been lying happily with his eyes closed, lulled to a state of restful dozing by the sound of Clarice's soft breathing. Her scent of jasmine shampoo, soap and the sweetest smell of all her flesh soothed away any residual pain he was feeling from his leg wound. Not that he would ever admit to showing any outward signs of pain as he saw it as a weakness. In the animal world, the sick and injured would either die or be killed of by the stronger members of the species and he was the strongest member around by far. Clarice's bird like, slumbering form was hardly being a match for an attacker. If she didn't have her trusty gun or some other projectile weapon she would be in great danger . He would have to reassert himself as the dominant male, if only to protect his female, and if he got a tasty meal out of it then that was just a bonus.<p>

His female, he couldn't help but smile at the way his own ego had phrased things. In truth Clarice had belonged to him since the first day they had met, at least that's what he thought. No doubt the firecracker of a woman who was sleeping next to him would think differently and fight him tooth and nail about the subject, luckily though she was asleep and had no clue about his inner thoughts. Just as well really as Lecter looked over to watch her sleeping form and he couldn't help but focus on the gentle rise and fall of her breasts. He could see their shapely form even under the blanket and his mind wandered to the thought of just what he would find if he took a peek under the infuriating bedding that separated them. He knew she was just wearing her underwear and ace bandage; wrapped across her chest, instead of the nightgown he had bought her. It had been a teasing challenge for her, put there to stir up emotions in the woman though he didn't believe for one moment that she would have to audacity to where such a thing. Not unless she wanted him to do terribly, naughty things to her and really make her his. He couldn't help imagining pulling back the blanket, stripping his gorgeous bedfellow of this scantily clad pieces but that would have to wait for a future event, one that he would be sure to take place.

He moaned audibly rolling over in bed away from the woman of his desire so that he was now lying flat on his back staring up at the cracked yellowing ceiling of the motel room. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sight and he would much prefer looking at clarice's shapely body once more but he was tired and his resolve was weak. He feared that if he carried on enjoying her in such a way he wouldn't be able to stop himself from crossing the line. He would end up either showing her the pleasure he was so desperate to give her. Either that or he would get over excited at his indulgent thoughts and end up having to sort himself out quietly in the bathroom as not to disturb his sleeping companion. No, staring at the ceiling was a much safer option. His keen eyes could still pick up the stains of damp and mildew that had collected over the years to make the once white paint now a disgusting patchwork of brown.

Closing his eyes Doctor Lecter began to realise just how tired he was, the days insertions had taken their toll on the man as he wasn't as young as he used to be. Soon however the man was asleep and dreaming.

_Hannibal Lecter entered the grand halls of his memory palace. He stalked down the passages, not in a particular rush and never to stop and linger over a painting as he would before. No, something pulled him, guided his tired body. He stopped just outside a bedroom door, it had been left opened; this was odd to him because his doors always remained closed. The door freely swung open as he pressed in further. The room was larger than most, the glow of candles help illuminate the bedroom setting. He did not bother to scrutinize the dark wooden furniture around the room, only one object alone caught and held his attention; Clarice. She sat at the foot of the bed, head turned towards him as though she had been expecting him. Hannibal moved closer, slowly, as if she were a forest creature that he sought to inspect closer. Her eyes followed him wherever he traveled, which happened to be a semicircle leading him to stand before her. He noticed her clothing was from one of the many clipped newspaper shots he avidly collected; a pair of dark green cargos and a black zipped up hoodie. Her clothes seemed fresh but her skin suggested otherwise, once deeper into the room Hannibal noticed spots and smudges of thick dirt on her face and arms. Once he reached journey's end, at the foot of a self-willed woman, was when he smelt it; blood. It peppered and clouded her fine porcelain skin. The smile that crept across her shapely lips could have outshined the sun in Hannibal's eyes. One of her hands rose to the zipper, gradually pulling it down as she disembarked from the bed. The unhurried sound of the metal teeth began to goad him as the flawless flesh of her chest began to peek through. Hannibal felt a vibration throughout his body urging him to rush forward. He perceived a shift in his body as if he was not in control._

Hannibal felt something move again, instinct kicking in tearing him away from the dream and the promise of their shared flesh to bring him back to the waking world. He stiffened physically as he felt a pressure against him, getting ready to attack as his eyes readjusted to the darkness in the room. When his night vision kicked in however what he saw surprised and confused him. Clarice, his Clarice that had been sleeping so soundly beside him was now straddling him. The pressure and warmth of her against him driving him a little bit mad and he desperately wanted to free himself but could do nothing with the little minx on top of him without hurting her. Clarice's eyes hinted at a sadness and also a little confused but not quite focused on him. Hannibal raised a hand to brush her cheek as he came to the conclusion that she was slipping out of a dream state and back into reality... one which she would not welcome openly. He snapped his fingers.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N: Dear readers: Please check my profile for a poll (right above the PM button) on Clarice and Hannibal's next path taken! Your choice will influence an upcoming chapter!**

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><p>Clarice's eyes widened in bewilderment, she looked down and realized her body composition over another's. Her FBI training sparked to life as she rolled to the side and jumped off the bed, landed on her feet and struck the bathroom door with her back. Hannibal remained still, watched her graceful and slender body movements and press against the secured door; her chest rose and fell with short bursts of air.<p>

Clarice's hand instinctively reached for a holstered weapon while her cop eyes inspected the scene before them. Hannibal observed as she took in his position; over the blankets except the small edge of what she placed over him when she had straddled him; a scene he would play over again later, his palms were facing away in surrender an act showing he was unarmed or under surrender, but she knew he would be neither and had other weapons up his proverbial sleeve. His eyes were dark and vigilant for her next move.

A pained expression flashed across her face, the affliction of her fractured ribs, the sickness her head contusion along with the hang over; all catching up at once after her jostled movement.

"Clarice..." Hannibal spoke with apathy.

She gripped her head and raised one hand. "I... what happ-" a throb of pain halted her from speaking, by now she figured best say what needed to be said and question everything else later, "Water" she croaked out "I need water and-" Clarice didn't hear Hannibal rise from the bed and grab a bottled water and aspirin until he stood in front of her with the offerings. Her eyes glanced over the items but she did not take them.

"Clarice." His voice teetering on a threatening level.

She grabbed the water, breaking the seal as she opened it, then washed down the chalk white pills. As she did Hannibal reached over and picked up her duffle bag. Clarice emptied the bottle of water when Hannibal reached past to open the bathroom door. He silently took the plastic bottle when she finished and handed her the bag. He could read the questions on her face, maybe even abashment and disdain in herself for her own actions. Hannibal longed to help rid her of those thoughts but talking now would solve nothing and knew she would need to eat something soon.

"I'll will return shortly with adequate food. Get dressed. Don't leave. Don't answer the door." Hannibal's words were short and firm, almost on the verge of making her feel like a child being unattended for for a short while. He turned and left with the car keys in hand and his jacket pulled from the chair.

Clarice watched as he exited the motel room, listened as the car started then pulled out away from the building. She felt slightly numb as she stepped into the bathroom, locked the door behind her and dropped the bag to the ground before sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet. Her head ached something fierce and the pills wouldn't kick in anytime soon. She leaned forward with her head in her hands as the dream replayed over a few times, she even tried to recall the night before and whatever she thought took place sent waves contrition through her.

Clarice's mind tried to pinpoint the source of her remorse without her permission. It wasn't for the FBI, she hadn't been working for several months and even if she had gone back it would not be the same- images flashed in her mind; Co-workers afraid to work with her or maybe even scared to make enemies with her, because of him, scared they might end up like Paul. No, the FBI let her down when Noonan took her gun and badge on the whim of falsified evidence from Krendler. They would not listen to her, when would they ever?

Crawford wasn't the source of her guilt, he hadn't been there much for her. The suspected '**Protege of Crawford**' the one to take Will's place, a position she could never, will never, fill.

Ardiela, her best friend... Whatever deity existed, if one did exist, had it out for her in the worse way possible and the last thing Clarice wanted was to get Ardelia caught up into it.

Maybe her penitence was for herself; the feeling of having a guilty pleasure of something taboo? '_You tried playing a dangerous game- his game... and now it's too late to stop._' The pulsating feeling that grew quelled Clarice's thoughts.

She let several minutes creep by and waited for the throbbing to subside. 15 minutes must have passed when the pills started to kick in and gave her a chance to stand face to face with herself in the mirror.

Clarice still looked like a train wreck, she thought back to the lady at the diner and the motel manager, no one had bothered asking what happened to her. Where they afraid to? Afraid to hear some lame answer to their thoughts of her beaten by a significant other? She began to feel foolish thinking the eel-like hotel manager may have wanted her; like so many coworkers and bosses with their lewd comments or attempts, but now he may have only been concerned for her.

Hot tears prickled her eyes as her actions last night skittered across her mind- No, she refused to feel guilty about how she looked to him; Hannibal. He wasn't superficial, these nicks and cuts were most likely invisible to him. What mattered to him were- she gripped the sides of the sink, _'Clarice get a fucking hold of yourself,'_ she blinked back the tears. _'Stop thinking, what matters to him doesn't matter to me at all. And what matters to me is getting answers from him.'_

_'He's not going to make this easy'_

_'I know and I don't care, look what I've been through. Was any of it easy?'_

_'Of course not. So who's fault is that?'_

For god sake she needed a distraction and fast. Clarice grabbed the bag and rummaged through it to pull out a set of clean clothes. For a moment she deliberated whether or not to shower. The last thing she needed was putting herself into a situation with Hannibal to re-wrap her chest but at this moment a cold shower sounded like heaven and outweighed all the cons. Clarice had pulled a towel out the duffle bag when she noticed the makeup bag at the bottom. A quick zip open revealed natural shaded makeup from foundation to eyeliner._ 'That sonofa- he really thinks of everything.'_ she bit her lip to keep from smiling.

Clarice carefully loosened the ace wrap, slipped out of the underwear and turned the water on which had come out in spurts, her first fear was that it would be brown as the sink water, once it became a steady stream she held a glass cup under the flow and found it suitably clear. With the dial turned to just below lukewarm Clarice stepped over the tub edge and under the water, the coldness sent a shock to her system that caused her to breathe quick shallow gasps, a moment is all it took her to steady her breathing and help reduce the pain in her chest. Oh how she longed to breathe normally again without incurring the wrath of her fractured ribs. The chill of the water helped inhibit the inflammation and numb her body to most of the physical pain.

Clarice felt blissfully unaware of anything outside of the shower curtain.

Hannibal heard the shower soon after the front door creaked open, he carried in one hand two white bags with styrofoam containers of restaurant food, passing up fast food for something with taste and nutrients. In a the other hand a map for him to memorize unfamiliar streets for their destination. Assuming Clarice was still accompanying him on the run with no doubt she will want answers and he will supply them in calculated dosages.

He set the food on top of the dresser before spreading the map open upon the disarranged bed covers. Locating their location took no time and soon he was tracing their route, time and mileage, petrol stations and alternatives roads if there were detours. Then he heard the shower cut off.

Clarice turned the metal handle and the water died down. She stood silent for a moment listening for anything beyond the door. Foot steps and possibly rustle of a plastic bag? She couldn't answer that question but only the important one; was Hannibal back? Clarice stepped out of the tub to quickly, and as painless as she could, dry off her hair then her body. With half her body donned with fresh clothing she frowned the door still locked in a battle with herself about him and her current state.

_'Why can't I just live a simple life?'_ The cogs in her mind began to spin, several thoughts fighting over one another for her mind tract.

_'Effortless lives for feeble people.'_ Her heart skipped at the silent thought that had called from the back.

_'I want to be normal, simple.'_ She prevented her head from turning towards the mirror; seeing herself weak and damaged would not help._ 'But... I can't be, can I? Normal people are compliant, powerless and tolerant to...'_

_'To what?'_

_'Oppression.'_

_'Not you.'_ The thought whispered bringing memories of fights and scoldings._ 'But he-'_

_'He must see that. Sees something the others...'_ Clarice tightly closed her eyes._ 'Don't don't don't **don't**.'_ She couldn't think of it, wouldn't admit to it, she can't let those feelings grow. A weed of a feeling. Something to be stomped out.

Clarice recalled a field behind the orphanage filled with dandelions. The matron always seemed to be yelling at the greenskeeper to destroy them whenever they popped up but, before he got around to it, the girls would rub the yellow heads on the back of their friends hands; proclaiming their friendships. One girl who hung around with Clarice told her that the dandelions were wish makers and that Ms. Mildred hated little girls making wishes. Clarice wondered why anyone would want to kill wishes of little girls and thinking back on it now Ms Mildred could've been allergic to them. A weed is a weed, right?

Clarice sighed, she wasn't doing a good job fighting with herself and it got her nowhere. She needed to grow up, stop acting like a child who is afraid to turn out the light. She couldn't wrap her torso alone and as much as she hated asking for it she needed his assistance.

"Clarice." The voice violently pulled her from her rumination.

"Y-yes." She stuttered then berated herself for it. There was a stretch of silence.

"The food is growing cold."

"Ok. I'll be out in a moment." Her tone felt a renewed sense of strength.

She finalized her emotions; she was an adult, he was an adult and it only felt weird if she made it weird. Clarice wrapped the towel around her torso, grabbed the rolled up bandage and with reestablished confidence stepped out into the room.

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><p><strong>Don't forget to check out the poll on my bio and what did you think of this chapter?<strong>


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**A/N: 3 months, geez. I have no excuse. Really... I only work 1 day and I'm home all day 6 days a week. I did do what I said I'd try not to do and ended up writing a Labyrinth fic. I needed an outlet with a larger field of probability (a magical realm is endless amounts of fun.) But I told myself to never let my first born go unattended. Please enjoy, and I apologize for the shortness.**

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><p>Hannibal had his back to the door when Clarice opened it. He did not turn around until she cleared her throat, signaling for his attention. When he faced her, not surprised but exceedingly pleased by the sight of her holding the towel wrapped around her chest. Clarice handed over the ace roll and turned around before he could speak. It took a good five seconds to build up her courage to drop the towel and raise her arms until the pain let her know to stop. Hannibal felt the air around her and, without words, knew she wanted to end this experience. He stepped forward leaving plenty of space but noticed Clarice leaning forward.<em> A bit nervous my dear? No I will not give you cause to flee from me, I want you to run to me. <em>He kept the space she created while he swiftly wrapped her up with the speed and efficiency of a professional. No games just patient and doctor.

He gave a light pat on the shoulder once he finished, she stepped back into the bathroom and grabbed the shirt from her bag. Clarice slipped it on and turned to find the doctor had directed his attention back to the map. When she fully exited the bathroom he pointed out the bag atop the dresser without a glance, "Please help yourself, Clarice."

Clarice followed the direction of his hand. She could smell the food as soon as the bag hoops were untied, her stomach ached to be filled with such delights. She fell into routine and pulled both containers out, unwrapped a fork, opened her packaged meal, then almost began eating; so many stake outs created an automatic echo in her muscle memory._ A bad habit._ she thought. Nearly forgetting that she was not in the presence of other agents sitting and waiting for the target, instead with a man who held dignity like no one else she had known. Clarice almost felt she should be ashamed for digging in so fast, even if he encouraged her to do so; it had an uncouth feeling to it.

Hannibal no longer needed to memorize the map and chose to watch Clarice from his peripheral view, he was intrigued to watch her movements. If only he could have been a fly on the many walls of her life. She had stopped suddenly and looked around, for what he wondered, a table to set up. There would be no candle lit dinners in the immediate future but he knew she wanted it to change the current scene than that of her previous unceremonious meals. He watched as she judged that any table source would not make a suitable surface and with only one chair, someone would be stuck with the bed which stood taller than any nightstand. Clarice relinquished her quest for civilities and brought Hannibal his food.

"Thank you, Clarice." He accepted the food, she nodded before turning back to her food; her eyes cast down to the map. Hannibal noticed the questions she wanted to ask while she ate. "Once we finish eating we will discuss our... future prospects and direction." He stated wanting to quarl her thoughts and focus on her meal. She only nodded again in reply.

They both consumed their meals standing in dead air. The quiet never bothered Hannibal, he quite preferred it over the hustle and bustle of vapid noise but Clarice despised the quietness; she heard too much in her head. So many thoughts wanting to take the steering wheel leading down too many dangerous roads. Every once in awhile she would steal a glance to Hannibal; he ate in small slow bites, clearly savoring his food. She looked down at her styrofoam container to find half her food gone. Yes she ate quick, that bad habit will be hard to kick. This made her close her eyes and slow down to taste the parsley, garlic, a hint of pepper and the tender clams that accompanied the paccheri. The food helped distract her thoughts but only momentarily before a terrifying voice thundered,_ I always wanted to watch you eat, Starling._ Her eyes shot open to prevent a vision chaperoning that statement. An overwhelming need to turn from Hannibal stirred in her but Clarice willed herself not to dramatically turn and held her meal; in both hands and stomach.

It brought delight to Hannibal when Clarice slowed her pace down to mimic as he did but the sudden distress look that crossed her face bothered him. He wish to know her thoughts and he aspired to know them in the future, when she felt more comfortable to express every single one without hindrance. In the meanwhile he settled for being desiderated in the dark.

_Get a hold of yourself_, she thought, after a moment of composing herself._ I just need to finish eating but take my time, let him finish then I can ask him anything. I can do this._ Clarice turned and eyed the painting of a boat on the ocean, the seas were rough and the small boat struggled along heading to safe harbor of a barely visible lighthouse on the left.

_What an archetype styled __painting. It seems like every motel room tries to look cultivated with something similar._ Her first thought seemed a harsh critique when a second thought emerged. _What if the painter poured his heart into this piece, hoping to leave a legacy behind only to have it be displayed in a run down, tacky room?_ All of a sudden she felt relatable to the painting, lost at sea, struggling, made from sweat and tears and tossed into a lackluster environment. _Oh god, I'm identifying with a painting, I need to get out of here._ Clarice set her food down in the dresser and turned back to Hannibal.

"Ok, can we talk now?" Her tone was impatient plea as she grabbed a bottle of water. Hannibal took a moment to finish his bite and languidly closed his food container, setting it next to the map. He could feel her energy pent up. _My little Starling, feeling a little caged in?_

"Of course, Clarice. What would you like to know?"

Clarice thought for a moment, she knew if the right question wasn't asked then she would never get a straight answer. "What are you willing to tell me?"

Hannibal took a moment before speaking "Anything, what would you like me to tell you?" She wanted to say 'the truth' but it sounded condescending, besides she couldn't think of a time when he had lied to her. Now face with so many questions it was hard to find a starting point.

"What's going on? Why did those men attack me?"

"To get to me." He wasted no time answering.

_Damn it... This is Verger all over again_. She thought.

"Why do these people think they can get to you through me?"

"Are you ready for the answer to that, Clarice?" The way he said her name, slow and deliberate had her biting her bottom lip and rethinking.

"No." She said quietly. "So then who is hunting you this time, Doctor?"

"An easier question would be 'who isn't.'" He said playfully with a knowing smile.

Clarice wasn't too please. "Please, no games Doctor... just tell me."

"Very well, please take a seat." Clarice sat on the edge of the chair, taking a swig of water. Hannibal folded up the map back into a plastic bag and placed his food on the nightstand nearby. He faced her while sitting on the bed, one leg curled in front of him and the other hanging off the side with his foot firmly on the floor. Even now he looked elegant in such a relaxed pose.

"I have my suspicions that a family member maybe behind the attacks." Hannibal read the questions emerging in her eyes and continued before she could voice them, "Out of some contrition, I suppose. This is just speculation."

"You mean you don't really know who or why?"

"One can not know everything, Clarice."

"Right, of course. I wasn't implying that-" She stopped talking when his hand flew up with a smile.

"No harm done." She felt a little flustered and thankful for him stopping her before she dug her own grave. "Would you like to know anything else?"

"Yes." Clarice cleared her throat, "What are we going to do? What's the plan?"

"As you know, I'm not very welcomed in the States and soon Canadian officials will be in search of me too. I have resources at my disposal in Europe. First thing is to return there."

"Europe?" Clarice's eyes widened. "You're dragging me to Europe?"

"Dragging? Oh, Clarice, I would like to think that you are accompanying me. You are free to leave, if you wish, back to the life you once led or you can 'tag along' with me. You will be-"

"What? Safe? Protected? I am many things, Doctor Lecter, but those are very low on the list."

"Perhaps..." His response threw her for a moment, "It is not you who needs protection." Clarice physically sat back at his words. "You will be needed. I feel the necessity for someone to watch my back and who better than you?"

"I... uh, you want a bodyguard?" Clarice gripped the arms of the chair to prevent her hands from shaking. No longer being able to look him in the eyes, her sight wandered around the room. _Fuck looking weak!_ She thought before continuing, "You want an FBI agent to-"

"Ex-FBI agent, Clarice." He corrected her.

She let a nervous laugh slip out. "Fine, but why me?"

"There is a list of reasons why, Clarice. You are adept, nimble, and are equipped with a highly qualified set of intuition and intelligence..." She met his eyes once again. He was praising her, the praise she had wished to receive from her bosses, to be seen as an asset and not a hinderance; praise from the wrong side of the glass.

_Glass ceiling_

Did it really matter where the praise came from? Maybe not. Clarice was no longer trapped under the boots of her superiors or forced to answer their demands. She had a better sense of right and wrong than they ever did. So if she wanted to accept the praise he gave her, without feeling guilty, then it was her choice alone.

"You can also be volatile." He finished with, noticing her body had relaxed back into the chair.

"Wouldn't that be a bad thing in a bodyguard?" Clarice asked with amusement.

"Hmm, it would seem that way; on the contrary, I enjoy the unpredictability of your personality, Clarice. Anymore inquiries?"

"You wouldn't, by any chance, tell me where in Europe we are headed?" She ventured knowing full well the answer already; he simply smiled in response. "I thought not." Trust wouldn't come easily, still, this was the perfect opportunity for her.

For years she studied him, his movement, taste, activity, yet he was still an enigma she couldn't crack; even when she felt so close to understanding him, he'd pull a 180 on her. How better to learn about someone when you are both step in step.

"Ok, Doctor Lecter, when do we leave and how are we getting there?"

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><p>How was it? :3<p> 


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_**A/N Update! It's been far too long since my last update; I fell out of writing altogether but I'm going to start back up. I've had this chapter sitting on open page this whole time and I'm going to just upload it even though I feel it's too short. Don't forget to leave a comment, they really help inspire me to keep writing for you. :) Please Enjoy!**_

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><p>Clarice sat in the passenger seat watching the Ottawa city slowly fade into farmland on the long stretch of Hwy 417. For a moment she could pretend it was winter in West Virginia, but the feeling wouldn't last; the reality of her situation overpowered even the most vivid of imaginations. How could she ever explain if someone asked her why she was where she was.<p>

Stuck in a car with the very man I was charged to hunt down. Clarice kept her eyes from drifting over to him. A man who has killed so many people for the pleasure of it. _I know I have nothing to go back too and I bet Dee is worried sick about me, contacting her now would be a very poor move at this point. Maybe... sometime later if I'm still...- later, just later._

_Ugh, don't even begin to think like that. I'm still alive and lived through so much worse._

The radio was tuned to a French news talk station; her basic highschool knowledge of French helped translate the news about the current scandals in politics but Clarice didn't pay much attention to it and was thankful for the noise; last thing she wanted was awkward silence.

The rising sun hit the windshield and she lowered the visor not expecting to catch her image in the mirror. Her skin nearly looked perfect, a false image, a mask of makeup to cover up the cuts and bruising from her car accident.

_Not an accident... assassination, attempted assassination._ She couldn't help but think of where she would be or wouldn't be if Dr. Lecter hadn't been there._ Dead, maybe laying in the prison ward of the hospital. Would they have kept trying to kill me after that?_

Her eyes drifted closed. The radio faded to minimal background noise. The lack of proper sleep was catching up with her.

_Why was he there anyway? If he had known about it why didn't he stop it?_

_OH RIGHT! That would have gone over smoothly_. The voice sarcastically made itself known. _Hey Clarice, it's me Hannibal, just calling to let you know someone has a hit out on you; it's not me I swear. Lets meet up and I'll protect you._

_Damn it, stop. I gotta stop over thinking this. Maybe he had tried or couldn't get there in time. But... he was there. I saw him just standing there; he must have pulled me out of the car, he-_

_Don't you dare start to think he saved your life, they attacked you to get to him, remember?_

A moment of silence passed between her two thought tracks.

_The alley way, he saved me then too; came back to-_

_To what? Finish you off before you could call for help? Plead for you not to leave him?_

_I don't know and I don't presume to know what he thinks. Who knows what those men would have done to me if he hadn't showed up._

Images of Lecter and the assailant danced about in a dream induced memory; hazy around the corners of their battling forms.

_When did he learn to fight like that?_

_Before going to Baltimore I'm sure._

She felt her body sway then a gravitational drag, the fight scene still fresh in her ambling mind caused her to imagine an attacker pulling her away to a dark corner. Clarice's hand gripped the car door handle when her eyes opened and spotted a car heading straight for them.

"Jesus." She mumbled through gritted teeth pressed back against her seat.

Hannibal coasted back into the correct lane after passing a slower semi-truck.

"My apologizes, Clarice. I hadn't-"

"It's ok." She cut him off and exhaled back into a relaxed position. "I'm just... a little tensed up."

"I'll drive a little more cautiously if you wish to sleep." His eyes focused on the road and not once shifted towards her.

"How much longer til wherever it is we're headed?"

"Less than 15 hours now."

"Does that include stops?"

"A few."

Several beats passed.

"So... you plan to drive all 15 hours straight?"

"Yes. We have very few hours to spare if we wish to make it on time."

'We' It still sounded foreign to her ears hearing it from him.

_I guess it is just 'us' for now. Still can't help but wonder... what's next?_

_Guess I'll cross that bridge when the time comes._

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><p>Sleeping was what helped Clarice pass the time, about 4 hours, granted it wasn't the most comfortable way. Her muscles fiercely ached to the point that even the handful of stops to stretch didn't appease them. She took a couple pain pills when they pulled into a diner for lunch; which alone was by far the weirdest thing for her. Lunch with Lecter...<p>

Dr. Lecter held the door open for her and as she entered the establishment, the smell of grilled meat wafting from the kitchen caused her stomach to growl and head to spin. The place wasn't busy which seemed unusual for a lunch hour, she suspected that they didn't get much customers outside of locals. The waitress greeted them while grabbing two menus from a stand and showing them to a booth. She looked 10 years senior than Clarice, somewhere in her mid 40s and it showed, however she dressed like a 20-something-year old girl.

_Afraid to lose your youth, aren't you?_ Clarice thought before a throbbing pain reeled her mind back into place.

"What can I get started for you, loves?"

"Ice water, please." Clarice tried to smile politely through the headache that was growing.

"Make that two." Hannibal added.

"Sure thing." The woman winked at Hannibal, spun on her heel then headed off to the bar counter.

Clarice ignored the wink and scanned the 'cookie cutter' menu of Hamburgers, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, salads, and so-called premium steak cuts. Everything sounded great and revolting at the same time. Clarice leaned forward with her head in one hand as she struggled with what to order. Shortly her drink had arrived and completely missed the waitress' question if they were ready to order; Hannibal requested more time for Clarice.

Her eyes focused so hard on the menu that at some point the words had become illegible and only some of the listed foods were accompanied with images but they didn't look appetizing at all. The sounds filtering in were static noises of dishes in the kitchen, people talking, eating, scraping their plates with knifes and forks. Soon her mind wandered from what to order to what he would order to thinking about where she was and whom she was with; sitting in a booth with Dr. Hannibal Lecter about to dine on lunch.

Several months ago she was charged with hunting him down, played cat and mouse, and even saved his life; or thats how her co-workers put it, she thought differently.

_Fuck, please let the pills kick in soon._ Her vision began to tunnel as her blue eyes swept the room, watching and taking note on everything she saw in an attempt to ignore the pain in her body. A few booths down their waitress was flirting with a younger gentleman; who looked uncomfortable with the attention he received. Two truckers, sitting at the bar, swapped stories of hitchhikers and hookers. A family of four on the far side of the diner sat with their hands linked as they prayed before eating. The chef in the back was ringing the bell and appeared to be frustrated with his minimum-wage-help. And lastly a young couple in a corner booth were too busy making out as their food went cold and neglected.

Clarice's awareness shot up, sparked by the feeling of being watched. Not one person she inspected had ever glanced her way but that familiar tingling sensation still traveled up her spine and sending ripples of goosebumps down her skin. Clarice's eyes turned from diner environment to meet the red irises of Doctor Lecter. All her nerves burned in an instant and she froze.

_Crap... I need to get a hold of myself. I can't let him see-_

_See what? That you can be weak?_

_Yes._

_Why? Because he'll pounce the moment you are? I think he's had plenty of chances so far._

Thankfully the waitress had returned with pad and pen in hand. "Are we all ready to order?"

"I believe so." Hannibal closed his menu, his eyes never wavered from her. He signaled her to begin. "Uh, I'll have a regular coffee and biscuit and gravy." Clarice resigned, folding her menu and handing it to the woman. "And I will have the homestyle bacon and eggs with a coffee as well."

"Excellent choice." The woman's warm smile and tone had still annoyed Clarice; she took the menus and promptly left to fill the order.

_It's her job, calm down._

_Yeah but does she have to flirt so blatantly?_

_Why is this even bothering me in the first place, just let it go._ Clarice resigned to lean back into the creaking leather of the booth seat and watched cars pass-by on the highway. She could feel his eyes on her.

_Damn it. I wonder if anyone ever wrote a book on "How to: Small talk with a criminal."_

_He's not just a simple criminal._

_He's not simple._

"How are you feeling, Clarice?"

She cleared her throat, "Better, thank you."

"We have 10 more hours worth of driving, 8 or 9 with good traffic and speed but if, for any reason, you don't feel up to it we can find a place to stay for the night."

Clarice soaked in his offer for a moment; it was very tempting, to sleep on a bed instead of in a car. Their drive hadn't been that long but after what her body had endured the last place she wanted to be was in a car.

"Thank you, but... I don't want to stall the inevitable, the sooner we get to where we need to be the better."

She saw the small smile grace his lips for a moment before he replied: "Of course. Just know that the offer still stands." She nodded in reply.

Clarice continued to stare out the window trying to convince herself to talk to him or think of anything to talk about. _This isn't exactly the best place to start asking questions but I doubt he'd give me what I want to know anyway..._

_Would I really want to know?_

_Yes, maybe, I should want to know. Knowledge is my only weapon right now, the only thing I have to prevent from getting killed... to stay one step ahead. _A small thought began to bloom in the back of her mind, she tried with all her might to keep it hidden in the shadows, to keep it from growing, but the medication broke down her barriers for all thoughts to grow;_ Is this how he feels all the time? Constantly on the run? Always looking over his shoulder and erasing his tracks? Never truly relaxed? _Clarice hadn't realized she looked to him when her thoughts emerged, filling her eyes with something akin to empathy:

_I don't want to live like this._

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><p><em>-Reviews are Welcomed! <em>


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_**Right. I'm pushing, what 2 years now? So finally an update! We are getting on that boat FOLKS! I apologize for any typos and so on, I busted this out in the last 11 hours. ;_; My ass hurts from sitting here, it's 2 :15 am, I just want to curl in bed with my husband but creativity gripped me by the throat and its hold has loosened. -NIGHT!1!**_

_**/Edit: Ah renewed morning light! I, hopefully, fixed some of the issues and the italic thoughts. I also wanted to thank my great friend Steal Beating Heart, her notes in my GoogleDocs really helped this chapter progress.**_

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 16<span>**

Fourteen hours total, traffic had been better than expected and Clarice could not have been more thrilled to get out of the car even with the stops in between to stretch or to eat, she swore she'd never sit in a car again. Under different circumstances the fourteen hour road trip would not have so arduous but with the combination of her trauma and albatross of a situation with Dr. Lecter left her feeling frazzled and shot to pieces.

The last break they had, several hours ago, left Clarice in such a state of pain that Dr. Lecter had to help her out and back into the car. He had promised that once they were safely aboard their transportation she was welcomed to take something much stronger to help her rest. An offer she just might take.

In Clarice's waking moments she would seek out signs to help orientate herself with their possible destination. She had spotted a "Welcome to Nova Scotia" placard some ways back before passing out and now that she was alert again she searched for a new sign, "Halifax Ferry Terminal"  
><em><br>Of course. I doubt a ferry travels across the Atlantic Ocean and its not likely that it'll be a cruise ship. It must be some sort of passenger ship though._

_People. Other People. _

_Trapped on a ship at sea with other people, they'd be a risk. Fuck. _

_I'd be at risk, what if someone notices me or him, we'd be sitting ducks or we'd pull into port a ghost ship._

_I can't let..._

_Can't what? Let him walk among the innocent ignorant people?_

_Do you seriously think he'd attack someone?_

_Yes, or no. Its a possibility. Can't rule it out._

_So what if? What if he attacked someone, unprovoked. What then? Could I take him out? An injured, weaponless woman against him?_

_And if I failed to stop him? What would he do to me?_

Clarice had to pull herself from her thoughts before the answer could float to the surface. Needed a distraction, needed words in the air. Too silent too long. Her throat closed in on her but she was able to voice a question.

"Are we close?"

"Yes. Excited, Clarice?" His tone teasing.

"Sweating bullets. Dr. Lecter." Her's was not.

He turned the car into a parking lot close to the dock and shut off the engine, there was an everlasting minute of silence before he turned to her. She looked at the few vacant cars that surrounded them.

"Please wait here a moment, Clarice." His door opened, "Watch my back?" His smirk felt to her like he was joking but his eyes were dead serious. He didn't wait for a response as he jumped out and strolled to a payphone a good easy 50-60 yards away that sat available in front of a red brick building; she watched him for a moment through the driver's side window. Clarice then did her best to twist around in her seat, despite the pain it caused, to inspect their entire surroundings. Not many people driving by, a couple walking but nothing screamed danger to her.

_Watch his back? What good would I be? None. I can't even get out of the car without every fiber of me screaming._

Some of the smaller ships in front of her buoyed with the water while the larger ones looked less affected. It was then, while she scanned the boats, that she noticed a man staring in their direction. His forearms rested on the deck rails, occasionally he would take a drag of his cigarette. A glance at his wrist. Clarice was getting that feeling. Her instinct. He flicked the cigarette into the water below and stepped into a doorway. Maybe she just overreacted to nothing. He was about three times further than Hannibal was from her so it all could have been a coincidence.

_It's not like everyone is out to get you. Someone is but not everyone._

He walked back out again this time with a long coat on and made his way off the ship.

_Shit. _

Clarice glanced towards Dr. Lecter, his back was to her and he wasn't even attempting to look around.

_**Watch my back.**_

_Fuck. I could tap the horn... no... no. That could draw more attention. _

Clarice took a deep breath and forced through her pain to open the door, that still didn't attract his attention but he could have been too far to hear.

The man had his sights dead on Hannibal. He was older, probably close to Hannibal's age, shorter than herself by almost a foot. Short salt and pepper hair. Small frame but that didn't mean he couldn't be dangerous. He walked with purpose right for him. For a majority of the walk he had been facing her but hadn't seen her, now he turned right on the dock, facing more of Dr. Lecter's direction.

Clarice couldn't pull herself out of the car, but she swung her feet out and with a half roll ended up crouched outside the passenger door; she stood slowly before it quietly closed it. With swift feet, half crouched using the intermittent cars for coverage, left arm clutching her aching ribs, she made her way parallel with this potential threat.

30 feet left, no more cars to hide behind.

20 feet. He still didn't see her and Dr. Lecter did not show any sign of noticing either.

_What the hell? I'm not hallucinating, am I?_

15 feet. Clarice stood straighter, her head throbbed in her ears, left hand braced her ribs a little tighter as her right fist balled up tightly.

_This is going to hurt._

10 feet. The man reached into his pocket. Clarice broke into a 5 step sprint. The distance between them closed rapidly. She raised then slung her fist forward and down at him, it connected with his jaw sending the small older man sprawling into the side of the brick building behind the payphone.

Clarice halted with her back to Dr. Lecter's side, the threat in front of her. She exhaled a hiss through her teeth from the horrible jostling the punch had caused in her ribs. Tears brimmed her eyes but she kept her scowl on the man. Breathe coming in heavy heaves.

"What the **FUCK**, you right **CUNT**!?" He leaned against the building holding his jaw with a calloused looking hand, his right hand still stuck the pocket of his jacket.

Clarice heard the payphone receiver return to its cradle and felt Dr. Lecter step out to her side. The man caste his gaze to her convoy as he slid to the ground; back against the wall. His right hand emerged with a pack of cigarettes. He plucked one out with his lips while his left hand dipped in for a lighter and the pack disappeared back into the pocket. Cigarette lit, inhaled a long drag.

"Hello, Robert."

Robert exhaled off to the side and nodded.

"Hannibal."

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><p>A storm had recently passed giving way to sunshine with scattered puff balls of white clouds leaving the surrounding area of a remote home in Kiyokawa, Japan in a glistening light.<p>

Kenji passed the threshold of boss' front door; he was one of the rare few who have been allowed to do so. He and his brother had been given keys at one point in time and with that she charged them with her safekeeping; for them it was an honor to have her trust so fully in them.

She had his trust nearly from the beginning of their time together. Because of the sacrifices she had made for him and his little brother he swore a fealty to her.

Initially, Kenji was unsure of where he'd locate her but after the front door clicked shut and changed the air current within its walls the aroma of food had wafted toward him.

Of course, cooking. His fondest memories where of her in the kitchen.

His path was direct and pace was swift but only until he reached the kitchen archway and when he saw her he stopped. Today she was not dressed formal but in slacks and a blouse with her hair bound up in a bun. He watched her profile as she sliced up what looked to be fish.

"Ohayō gozaimasu." Her voice lilt with a smile, but she did not glance his way.

"Ohayō." He attempted to keep his response level. He entered to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island. Her smile had yet to fade when she looked up from her task at hand. Kenji's colleagues would describe him as steady, emotionless, and calculating. Not necessarily bad traits to have for someone in his trade. But if they saw him in her presence they would not recognize him. He was softer around her, he knew it and she knew it.

"News?" She returned her focus on her original task.  
>"Yes. We monitored the major ports and a few possible minor ones, they were spotted in Nova Scotia yesterday afternoon, left port in Halifax." Her smile grew just a little. He watched her hands deftly cut the liver out of a pufferfish. "Fugu?"<p>

"Yes. A gift for my _friend_." She set the organ aside to be processed later.

"Tetrodotoxin. A particularly nasty and effective neurotoxin."

"Destination?" Her eyes flashed up to him.

"Papers said Lisbon, Portugal. May be a false trail. Nonetheless, your men are on the move to meet them wherever they dock. They've calculated it will take them roughly 8-9 days to cross in the vessel."

"Very good. Tell them to ready my plane. I think I'd like to visit Portugal prior to their arrival."

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><p>Clarice's breathe hitched and her eyes widened as Dr. Lecter held out a hand to the fallen man. Robert accepted the help and was soon brushing himself off.<p>

"This is Clarice Starling. Clarice, this is Robert Hedley; he will be ferrying us across."

"OH... uh hey. Sorry for attacking you." Clarice's breathing was still a bit heady but she lowered the arm that wrapped her chest and reached out to shake his hand. She expected his hand to meet hers but instead she watched his eyes travel up her legs, ascend her hips and abdomen, linger too long on her respiring chest, then halt on her none-too-happy expression.

"Riiiiight," His teeth bit the cigarette with a raised brow and a smug smirk. He turned back to Hannibal, "Bags?"

"In the car, I will fetch them."

"Good thing, because my shoulder is feeling a bit sore." He rubbed the upper right appendage with a hearty laugh and walked off.

Dr. Lecter turned to Clarice to find her expression had changed to something akin to being appalled.

"What the hell?" She continued to glare after him, "Was that for real? Because I feel like I'm going a little crazy here. He knows who you are?"

"Yes." The answer was fast and flat.

"And he's willing to help you?"

"Willingly? Perhaps not, but his code of honor demands that his debt to me be, in some form, repaid."

_Debt?_

"Can you trust him to not turn us in?" Clarice shifted her gaze over Dr. Lecter's shoulder then back.

"Us, Clarice? Have you already wed our fates together in your mind?" A flash of a toothy grin.

"Couldn't the same be asked of you? What's stopped you from attempting to turn me in? You've had plenty of opportunities. All you have to claim is that I kidnapped you and forced your compliance," his tone in a low guttural flow, "You and I are not so dissimilar, Clarice. We both don't trust easily, but those we do should consider themselves lucky."

She swallowed hard and watched his posture rapidly change to one less intimidating.

"How are your ribs and your hand?" He grasped her hand to inspect the knuckles. Unharmed but will likely be sore.

"Hurts like a bitch." Clarice gritted through her teeth and attempted to wrap her arm around herself but was interrupted when his free hand snatched it. Before she could object he stepped forward to place his hands on either side of her ribcage.

"I imagine so, such a fierce attack is bound to have repercussions." His eyes drifted down to follow his digits that inspected for new or worsened damage.

"Yeah, well I thought he was going to attack you and you didn't seem to aware of your surrou-OW."

"Hmmm." His fingertips walked minuscule steps back to front.

"Hmmm what?" Her voice hit a ragged tone when his fingers hit a tender spot on the right.

"You aggravated the fracture, Clarice." His fingers left her, "Best to get going, you should lay down and rest." He turned to head back to the car and she was quick on his heels.

"That sounds wonderful, I wouldn't mind something a little stronger to help with the pain so long as you promise you won't get into any trouble."

"Trouble, Clarice?" She saw the smirk.

"Yeah, I can't watch your backside twenty-four/seven."

_Backside? Really? Her eyes drifted down his back, watching the fabric of his trouser- _

_STOP IT! Jesus._

Her eyes darted away.

"On the contrary, Clarice. I was quite well aware of him walking towards me," Halfway to the car, "You however," He spun so quick on heels that she didn't have time to stop and crashed into his chest. Like a snake, Hannibal's arm coiled to steady her at the waist; her hands planted against his chest but did not resist. She couldn't help but notice how his pupils swallowed the maroon irises. He leaned into her body with a voice lowered to a growl, "I didn't hear you approach. Had I, I would have stopped you and not for his sake. I wasn't expecting you...

You surprised me, Clariiice." She failed to repress the shudder that his feral gaze produced in her. His head leaned in to run the tip of his nose against the flesh of her neck. That caused her lower half to quake.

_Oh my god. Danger! No. Say something. What do I say? Should I apologize? Ugh no, I would sound stupid. _

_Why? Why does that feel so good? _

_Nothing ever feels good, everything is always hurting... except right now. Nothing hurts._

Her head lolled off to the left, shoulders sagged and arms relaxed down on top of his. Hannibal brushed his lips against to expanse of her exposed clavicle; feeling the racing pulse of her heart just under the flesh. His lips moved up to the junction of her neck and shoulder; out of his peripheral vision he watched her swallow. She truly had surprised him and wanted nothing more than to return the favor. Hannibal's mouth opened, he let his teeth settle against her heated flesh. Her hands instantaneously clamped down on biceps and let a moan escape her throat but made no motion to flee or reject. That moment had be delicious to him.

_Mmmm, Clarice. Are you terrified and captivated by the thought of me biting you? I'd like to explore more of that side of you if you'll permit me._

His teeth began to close down on a bit of flesh, when a sudden deafening noise disrupted their trance. Clarice's eyes shot open to see Robert standing on his deck, one arm in the doorway yanking the horn cord then with large arm movements pointing to his wrist. She suddenly realized what position she had let herself get swept up into and gently pushed away from Dr. Lecter's hold. She was grateful that he hadn't resisted letting go.

_Oh god. How'd I get so carried away?_

She could feel her face was red, even with all the makeup she had put on, she knew it showed.

_Don't look at him._

"We should probably get going." Her mouth felt parched and sandpapery when she swallowed.

"Agreed." His tone back to flat and unaffected, he quickly detached and headed back to the car. It pissed her off.

_Why? Why does that piss me off so much?_

_Oh right because here I am breathlessly swooning and he acts like all he did was open a door for me._

_Feel more like I opened a door for him, showed him that he affected me._

**_Fuck._**


End file.
